MEDEA: Tell me, how does it feel with my teeth in your heart?
Medea
MEDEA: Tell me, how does it feel with my teeth in your heart?
Medea
Write dreams on paper and transform your blood into ink to create a landscape of sunshine, an entirely new concept of reality with your eyes closed because you embrace what it truly feels to be alive.
There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.
My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.
Jane Eyre
She imagines him imagining her.
This is her salvation.
The Blind Assassin
When I stare into your eyes
and you stare back into mine
I don’t just see the surface
I see the galaxies as they hide.
And for those fleeting moments
I know not of gruesome thoughts
but rather of the cosmos
the stars, your eyes have caught.
It’s as if you swallowed night
just to take my breath away
the universe is endless
and my feelings are the same.
Striking depths of space I see
your eyes provide this view
what do you think while you search mine?
All I think is, ‘I love you.’
“You’re only given one little spark of madness. You musn’t lose it.”
Follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly
the tired sunsets and the tired
people-
it takes a lifetime to die and
no time at
all.
If you love a flower, don’t pick it up. Because if you pick it up, it dies, and it ceases to be what you love. So if you love a flower, let it be. Love is not about possession. It is about appreciation.