"We live together; we act on, and react to, one another; but always and in all circumstances we are by ourselves. The martyrs go hand in hand into the arena; they are crucified alone. Embraced, the lovers desperately try to fuse their insulated ecstasies into a single self-transcendence; in vain. By its very nature every embodied spirit is doomed to suffer and enjoy in solitude."
Maude: I should like to change into a sunflower most of all. They’re so tall and simple. What flower would you like to be?
Harold: I don’t know. One of these, maybe.
Maude: Why do you say that?
Harold: Because they’re all alike.
Maude: Oooh, but they’re not. Look. See, some are smaller, some are fatter, some grow to the left, some to the right, some even have lost some petals. All kinds of observable differences. You see, Harold, I feel that much of the world’s sorrow comes from people who are this,
[she points to a daisy]
Maude: yet allow themselves be treated as that.
[she gestures to a field of daisies]
The Erotic Sketchbooks of:
Amedeo Modigliani, Egon Schiele, Edgar Degas, Gustav Klimt, Pablo Picasso, & Henri Matisse.
Somebody buy them for me for Christmas or my birthday. I beg you.
Thought I would post here sometimes until I have time again for dailies (not likely before long!).
"Every word has consequences. Every silence, too."