Wolfman’s Books by kylejglenn on Flickr.
A Wild Vortex of Books Flying Right at You.

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle, pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.
~Anïs Nin

How much better is silence;the coffee cup, the table.
How much better to sit by myself,like the solitary sea-bird that opens it’s wings on the stake.
Let me sit here forever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.
Virginia Woolf

The first sentence of a book is a handshake, perhaps an embrace.
~ Jhumpa Lahiri
Works of art are of an infinite solitude, and no means of approach is so useless as criticism. Only love can touch and hold them and be fair to them. Always trust yourself and your own feelings, as opposed to argumentation, discussions, or introductions of that sort; if it turns out that you are wrong, then the natural growth of your inner life will eventually guide you to other insights. Allow your judgements their own silent, undisturbed development, which, like all progress, must come from deep within and cannot be forced or hastened. Everything is gestation and then birthing. To let each impression and each embryo of a feeling come to completion, entirely in itself, in the dark, in the unsayable, the unconscious, beyond the reach of ones own understanding, and with deep humility and patience to wait for the hour when a new clarity is born: this alone is what it means to live as an artist: in understanding as in creating.
Rainer Maria Rilke (via rasputinmaxim)
You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope.
Jane Austen (via rasputinmaxim)

But luxury has never appealed to me, I like simple things, books, being alone, or with somebody who understands.

~ Daphne Du Maurier
We are the sun and moon, dear friend; we are sea and land. It is not our purpose to become each other; it is to recognise each other, to learn to see the other and honour him for what he is; each the other’s opposite and compliment.
Hermann Hesse (via rasputinmaxim)