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You should be angry. You must not be bitter. Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. It doesn’t do anything to the object of its displeasure. So use that anger. You write it. You paint it. You dance it. You march it. You vote it. You do everything about it. You talk it. Never stop talking it.

Maya Angelou in a 2006 talk with Dave Chappelle on the Sundance Channel’s Iconoclasts series.

Here’s video.

(Source: umcanyounot, via imacriminalyoo)

Believe me, religions are on the wrong track the moment they moralize and fulminate commandments. God is not needed to create guilt or to punish. Our fellow men suffice, aided by ourselves. You were speaking of the Last Judgement. Allow me to laugh respectfully. I shall wait for it resolutely, for I have known what is worse, the judgement of men.

— albert camus - the fall


Ralph Gibson, Syntax, 1974

Ralph Gibson, Syntax, 1974

(Source: the-night-picture-collector, via last-picture-show)

29 September. At one time I used to think: Nothing will destroy you, not this tough, clear empty head.

— Franz Kafka, Diaries  

(Source: kafkaesque-world)


Nobuyoshi Araki, Sentimental Journey, 1971

Nobuyoshi Araki, Sentimental Journey, 1971

(Source: the-night-picture-collector, via last-picture-show)

Feverishly you contrive these substitutes, and if the fever has not already destroyed you, the hopelessness of the substitutes will.

— Franz Kafka, Diaries (via kafkaesque-world)

darwishism:

"Who that does not have love, fears the winter"

darwishism:

"Who that does not have love, fears the winter"

firsttimeuser:

Lisa on silk, 1940 by Horst P. Horst

firsttimeuser:

Lisa on silk, 1940 by Horst P. Horst

Some cry: “Love me!” Others: “Don’t love me!” But a certain genus, the worst and most unhappy, cries: “Don’t love me and be faithful to me!”

— albert camus - the fall 


Vaintas (detail) by Leo Putz (1869-1940)
oil on canvas, 1896

Vaintas (detail) by Leo Putz (1869-1940)

oil on canvas, 1896

(Source: paintingses, via herekitty)

I can confirm that U.S. military and partner nation forces are undertaking military action against ISIL terrorists in Syria using a mix of fighter, bomber and Tomahawk Land Attack Missiles. Given that these operations are ongoing, we are not in a position to provide additional details at this time. The decision to conduct theses strikes was made earlier today by the U.S. Central Command commander under authorization granted him by the commander in chief. We will provide more details later as operationally appropriate.

Pentagon spokesman Rear Adm. JOHN KIRBY.

Waiting to hear if these airstrikes have been authorized by Bashar al-Assad. That would be quite the development.

(via NBC News)

(Source: inothernews)


I understand, all right. The hopeless dream of being - not seeming, but being. At every waking moment, alert. The gulf between what you are with others and what you are alone. The vertigo and the constant hunger to be exposed, to be seen through, perhaps even wiped out. Every inflection and every gesture a lie, every smile a grimace. Suicide? No, too vulgar. But you can refuse to move, refuse to talk, so that you don’t have to lie. You can shut yourself in. Then you needn’t play any parts or make wrong gestures. Or so you thought. But reality is diabolical. Your hiding place isn’t watertight. Life trickles in from the outside, and you’re forced to react. No one asks if it is true or false, if you’re genuine or just a sham. Such things matter only in the theater, and hardly there either. I understand why you don’t speak, why you don’t move, why you’ve created a part for yourself out of apathy. I understand. I admire. You should go on with this part until it is played out, until it loses interest for you. Then you can leave it, just as you’ve left your other parts one by one.

Persona (1966)

I understand, all right. The hopeless dream of being - not seeming, but being. At every waking moment, alert. The gulf between what you are with others and what you are alone. The vertigo and the constant hunger to be exposed, to be seen through, perhaps even wiped out. Every inflection and every gesture a lie, every smile a grimace. Suicide? No, too vulgar. But you can refuse to move, refuse to talk, so that you don’t have to lie. You can shut yourself in. Then you needn’t play any parts or make wrong gestures. Or so you thought. But reality is diabolical. Your hiding place isn’t watertight. Life trickles in from the outside, and you’re forced to react. No one asks if it is true or false, if you’re genuine or just a sham. Such things matter only in the theater, and hardly there either. I understand why you don’t speak, why you don’t move, why you’ve created a part for yourself out of apathy. I understand. I admire. You should go on with this part until it is played out, until it loses interest for you. Then you can leave it, just as you’ve left your other parts one by one.

Persona (1966)

(Source: michellewilliamss)

Fortunately there is gin, the sole glimmer in this darkness. Do you feel the golden, copper-colored light it kindles in you? I like walking through the city of an evening in the warmth of gin.

— albert camus - the fall