Arrange your books by size.
Arrange your books by color.
Arrange them by how badly they have hurt you.
This one made me cry,
this one made me wander the city at night,
looking for ghosts,
looking for You even though You have never existed.
This one taught me how to write.
This one taught me to dream.
Arrange your books by urgency,
by passion, by lust, by horror.
Posts tagged books.
Arrange your books by size.
Even now, all possible feelings do not yet exist, there are still those that lie beyond our capacity and our imagination. From time to time, when a piece of music no one has ever written or a painting no one has ever painted, or something else impossible to predict, fathom or yet describe takes place, a new feeling enters the world. And then, for the millionth time in the history of feeling, the heart surges and absorbs the impact.
I wish I could convey the perfection of a seal slipping into water or a spider monkey swinging from point to point or a lion merely turning its head. But language founders in such seas. Better to picture it in your head if you want to feel it.
…”It is said that the Messiah will come at the end of the world.” “But it was not the end of the world,” Grandfather said. “It was, He just did not come.” “Why did he not come?” “This was the lesson we learned from everything that happened—there is not God. It took all of the hidden faces for Him to prove this to us.” “What if it was a challenge of your faith?” I said. “I could not believe in a God that would challenge faith like this.” “What if it was not in His power?” “I could not believe in a God that could not stop what happened.” “What if it was man and not God that did all of this?” “I do not believe in man, either.
It’s true: Only the blind can have sex without pain.
It’s true: We’re not blowing kisses to the minaret’s barred window; we’re going to burn down the palace.
It’s true: Adults cry less than children, and have more need to cry.
It’s true: When you care about me, you care about you caring about me. And when I care about you, I care about me caring about you.
It’s true: There’s gold at the end of the rainbow. That’s all there is!
It’s true: I can no longer distinguish my pockets from my rips, my tricks from being tricked.
It’s true: I have been to this place before.
Love me, because love doesn’t exist, and I have tried everything that does.
…Absence can be present,
like a damaged nerve,
like a dark bird.
I read on Tumblr once that someone thought it was funny that nobody’s favorite character in the Harry Potter series is Harry. Another person reblogged and added, “I think it’s because Harry hates himself so much.” but I disagree. Nobody’s favorite is Harry because we are Harry. In his world, while we’re reading, we are him. That’s why he’s nobody’s favorite, we choose the ones we see around us.