"And all this ceaseless labor—to what end? Merely to entomb oneself deeper and deeper in silence, it seems, so deep that one can never be dragged out of it again by anybody."

—Franz Kafka, Investigations of a Dog  (via kafkaesque-world)
#words  

bienenkiste:

Ph. Errikos Andreou

"I dream of a language whose words, like fists, would fracture jaws."

—E.M. Cioran, Strangled Thoughts 

controlyourface:

Script: Cohle calmly takes the pulse in his neck, as if idly curious about his heart rate.

Matthew McConaughey explains: He’s coming off of years being Crash. He’s trying to walk the line. Monk-like. Trying to hold it together. And that’s a lot easier with less interaction with others. There’s a mechanical side to him.

occhiolism

dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

n. the awareness of the smallness of your perspective, by which you couldn’t possibly draw any meaningful conclusions at all, about the world or the past or the complexities of culture, because although your life is an epic and unrepeatable anecdote, it still only has a sample size of one, and may end up being the control for a much wilder experiment happening in the next room.

#words  

 

"But I have infinite tenderness for you. I always will. All my life long"

—"Blue is the warmest colour" (via tired-allthetime)

nearlya:

Pejac. Seppuku

#art