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Orlando quotes
I finally finished Virginia Woolf's Orlando, long after having received it as a birthday gift from losemeontheway maybe two years ago.
(Thanks again, Emily, you were right about everything.
It is now on my top favorite books ever list.)
It's been a while since I transcribed quotes to lj...
because I've been doing it on tumblr instead, actually ( Read more... ) -
...and how should I begin?
And should I then presume ( Read more... ) -
[this is the way the...]
You may not believe me ( Read more... ) -
Moby Dick quotes
"... Faith, like a jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope ( Read more... ) -
nausea
I try to keep it secret when I'm reading something not related to what I should be reading (even from myself),
as if I were cheating on my subject(s) still.
But I've found that this guilt complex is inevitable.
I'm slowly getting the books I requested at paperbackswap in the mail, among which is Sartre's NauseaThe introduction is also a brief ( Read more... ) -
poem of the day
If I make the lashes dark ( Read more... ) -
anagrammed sisters
For losemeontheway, my new friend.
"'And who are you?' Alice asked, rather impatiently.
'Why, I'm you, of course,' the voice answered.
'But that's impossible,' replied Alice, full of indignation, 'because I'm me ( Read more... ) -
sleepy hollow quote
Reading The Legend of Sleepy Hollow for Sharp's class tomorrow.
Actually, no.
I'm listening to a download from Gutenberg (heads up, Mari. And possibly, Viktor. The rest of you, don't ask ( Read more... ) -
the faerie reel
I'm cleaning up my myspace blog because...
because.
I don't know why I used to write in it the first place, probably reaching out for... anything.
Anyway, I transcribed this poem from Niel Gaiman's Fragile Things long ago and posted it.
I googled it, it's not online.
So if you don't own the book, here's a freebie.
The Faerie ReelIf I were ( Read more... ) -
textual mirrors of discovery
"In reality, every reader is, while he is reading, the reader of his own self. The writer's work is merely a kind of optical instrument which he offers to the reader to enable him to discern what, without the book, he would perhaps never have perceived in himself."
Marcel Proust, The Past Recaptured
from Autobiography: Toward a Poetics of ( Read more... )