A Monster Is Not Such A Terrible Thing To Be. From The Latin Root Monstrum, A Divine Messenger Of Catastrophe,

A monster is not such a terrible thing to be. From the Latin root monstrum, a divine messenger of catastrophe, then adapted by the Old French to mean an animal of myriad origins: centaur, griffin, satyr. To be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning at once.

Ocean Vuong, from “A Letter To My Mother That She Will Never Read”, published in The New Yorker (via soracities)

places where you can feel especially close to history:

crowded places where classical music is playing softly in the background

used bookstores where the sun is shining through the window and you can see the dust floating in its light

moonlit car rides down country roads with horses grazing nearby

dark rooms at 3 am when everything is silent except for the wind outside

run-down buildings at universities with only a few people in them

anywhere where you can feel the breeze blow gently past you, the tender kiss of ghosts from long ago

Does the sun ask itself, “Am I good? Am I worthwhile? Is there enough of me?” No, it burns and it shines. Does the sun ask itself, “What does the moon think of me? How does Mars feel about me today?” No it burns, it shines. Does the sun ask itself, “Am I as big as other suns in other galaxies?” No, it burns, it shines.

Andrea Dworkin, Our blood: prophecies and discourses on sexual politics (1976)

things i tell myself

Art attracts us only by what it reveals of our most secret self.

Jean-Luc Godard (via wordsnquotes)

You still look for it, don’t you? Every time I look up. And the weird part is… Sometimes it’s still there.