Art & Stories

Currently Reading: Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I’d learned to feel nostalgia for my own youth while I was living it.

—Edmund White, The Beautiful Room is Empty (via cancering)

The brain may take advice, but not the heart, and love, having no geography, knows no boundaries: weight and sink it deep, no matter, it will rise and find the surface: and why not? Any love is natural and beautiful that lies within a person’s nature; only hypocrites would hold a man responsible for what he loves, emotional illiterates and those of righteous envy, who, in their agitated concern, mistake so frequently the arrow pointing to heaven for the one that leads to hell.

—Truman Capote, Other Voices, Other Rooms (via larmoyante)

We have not long to love.
Light does not stay.
The tender things are those
we fold away.
Coarse fabrics are the ones
for common wear.
In silence I have watched you
comb your hair.
Intimate the silence,
dim and warm.
I could but did not, reach
to touch your arm.
I could, but do not, break
that which is still.
(Almost the faintest whisper
would be shrill.)
So moments pass as though
they wished to stay.
We have not long to love.
A night. A day….

—"We Have Not Long to Love," Tennessee Williams (via commovente)