She wanted to scream, but a person who is alone—alone in the absolute sense of the word—does not scream out her despair; it is useless. Deserts do not hear. But she can do things with her hands which even a desert must notice. She can tear at the sand until the desert bleeds.
– Stig Dagerman, from “Men of Character,” The Games of Night (Quartet, 1986)
Lou Andreas-Salomé, from Looking Back: Memoirs; translated by Breon Mitchell
Text ID: Human life—indeed all life—is poetry. It is we who live it, unconsciously, day by day, like scenes in a play, yet in its inviolable wholeness it lives us, it composes us. There is something far different from the old cliche "Turn your life into a work of art"; we are works of art-but we are not the artist.
Clarissa Pinkola Estés, from “Women who Run with the Wolves,” published in 1992
Anaïs Nin, in a diary entry dated 27 February 1929, featured in The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin: Vol. IV, 1927-1931
Glass Sculpture By Hennie Elzinga.
Devilman デビルマン (1986) Illustrated By: Go Nagai
Marie Antoinette (2006), dir. Sofia Coppola
— C. G. Jung, Man and His Symbols; “The Oracle dream”
2 April, 1937 Letters to Véra by Vladimir Nabokov
Margaret Atwood, “Thoughts from Underground”, Selected Poems: 1965-1975