10/6/18 12:11 am''you mistook my kindness for weakness'' |
running to stand still
there must be a light that never goes out
7/16/18 05:24 pmModern criticism, I think it will be conceded, begins with Eliot, whose paradigms were such writers as Donne and Crashaw, for whom interpretation was required even in their own day as a condition for determining what was being said by means of what in fact was said, and hence deep interpretation was the standard way of reading. But criticism, then, began to assume the form of other systems of deep interpretation - psychoanalysis and marxism - and under this pressure, all texts became concealments, and deconstruction an inevitability. This gives the critic a great power, virtually the power of the priest, since only he or she knows what truly is being transmitted, and so constitutes the true reader. The rest of us either have to be taught to read, or take the critic as the authority. This has had two immediate corollaries. In the first instance, it developed in response a style of writing made to order for the critic, who came to serve the role of the censor in political systems which drive the writer to acts of increasingly complex concealment, where every letter is in effect the purloined letter. And of course the other corollary was the inevitable impact on critical writing itself, which becomes increasingly obscure, to the point that only other critics can read it and their interpretations are uncertain and obscure, and set forth in any case in texts that in turn require criticism - to the point where criticism exemplifies the literary ideal and a critic like Geoffrey Hartman can claim that the critic is the true artist of our time - or that literature itself is justified to the degree that it makes literary criticism possible.''The Politics of Imagination'', Arthur C. Danto |
4/27/17 04:55 pm - (rupi kaur) |
9/28/16 09:45 pmDid you think i was a city big enough for a weekend getaway?I am the town surrounding it, the one you've never heard of but always pass through There are no neon lights here, no skyscrapers or statues but there is thunder, for i make bridges tremble I am not street meat i am homemade jam thick enough to cut the sweetest thing your lips will touch I am not police sirens, i am the crackle in a fireplace I'd burn you and you still couldn't take your eyes off me cause i'd look so beautiful doing it you'd blush I am not a hotel room i am home I am not the whiskey you want i'm the water you need Don't come here with expectations and try to make a vacation out of me // rupi kaur |
9/28/16 04:07 pmi want to apologize to all the women i have called beautifulbefore i’ve called them intelligent or brave i am sorry i made it sound as though something as simple as what you’re born with is all you have to be proud of when you have broken mountains with your wit from now on i will say things like you are resilient, or you are extraordinary not because i don’t think you’re beautiful but because i need you to know you are more than that // rupi kaur |
9/24/16 02:38 pmneesmu vēl beigusi lasīt, bet jau tagad ar abām rokām uz sirds varu teikt, ka bell hooks grāmata communion: the female search for love ir viena no vissvarīgākajām grāmatām, ko jebkad esmu lasījusi.it kā ļoti pašsaprotamas lietas, bet atkārtošana - zināšanu māte, un galu galā vienmēr ir labi zināt, ka ne tikai man vienai ir konkrēta rakstura problēmas, bet tās problēmas, ar ko es kā jauna sieviete dīloju, lielā mērā ir saistītas kopīgas. vienkārši ne visi un visas par to runā. piemēram, ka “The time has come to tell the truth. Again. There is no love without justice. Men and women who cannot be just deny themselves and everyone they choose to be intimate with the freedom to know mutual love. If we remain unable to imagine a world where love can be recognized as a unifying principle that can lead us to seek and use power wisely, then we will remain wedded to a culture of domination that requires us to choose power over love.” |
9/7/14 07:26 pmIzpildīju FB grāmatu challenge, labi, ka esmu vecāku namā un labi, ka Invisible cities bija pie rokas, jo atcerējos par to grāmatu un ļoti sailgojos palasīt tāda veida tekstu.Italo Calvino, no Invisible cities, šis laikam ir mans pēdējā laika mīļākais fragments. CITIES & SIGNS 2 Travellers return from the city of Zirma with distinct memories: a blind black man shouting in the crowd, a lunatic teetering on a skyscraper's cornice, a girl walking with a puma on a leash. Actually many of the blind men who tap their canes on Zirma's cobblestones are black; in every skyscraper there is someone going mad; all lunatics spend hours on cornices; there is no puma that some girl does not raise, as a whim. The city is redundant: it repeats itself so that something will stick in the mind. I too am returning from Zirma: my memory includes dirigibles flying in all directions, at window level; streets of shops where tattoos are drawn on sailors' skin; underground trains crammed with obese women suffering from the humidity. My travelling companions, on the other hand, swear they saw only one dirigible hovering among the city's spires, only one tattoo artist arranging needles and inks and pierced patterns on his bench, only one fat woman fanning herself on a train's platform. Memory is redundant: it repeats signs so that the city can begin to exist. |
8/18/14 09:54 pmBrod discovered 613 sadnesses, each perfectly unique, each a singular emotion, no more similar to any other sadness than to anger, ecstasy, guilt, or frustration. Mirror Sadness. Sadness of Domesticated Birds. Sadness of Being Sad in Front of One's Parent. Humor Sadness. Sadness of Love Without Release.She was like a drowning person, flailing, reaching for anything that might save her. Her life was an urgent, desperate struggle to justify her life. She learned impossibly difficult songs on her violin, songs outside of what she thought she could know, and would each time come crying to Yankel, I have learned to play this one too! It's so terrible! I must write something that not even I can play! She spent evenings with the art books Yankel had bought for her in Lutsk, and each morning sulked over breakfast, They were good and fine, but not beautiful. No, not if I'm being honest with myself. They are only best of what exists. She spent an afternoon staring at their front door. / Jonathan Safran Foer - Everything is illuminated
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8/15/14 01:16 pm - channel your inner film noir goddess I think your whole life shows in your face and you should be proud of that, tas ir tik lieliski, bet tiem internetu citātiem jau ne vienmēr var uzticēties. lai nu kā, jaunā iedvesma, rīt starp projektu rakstīšanu skatīšos film noir ar fierce dāmām, aizdomīgiem vīriešiem, netīriem darījumiem un dažāda veida kriminālām aktivitātēm. |
8/7/14 04:56 pm - wiki(how)Although structured as a love song, "Dance Me to the End Of Love" was in fact inspired by the Holocaust. In an interview, Cohen said of the song:
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7/28/14 11:32 amšekspīriskā koļīšanās, bļinPETRUCHIO Why, what’s a moveable? KATHARINA A join’d-stool. PETRUCHIO Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me. viņu pirmā saruna, lol. |
7/20/14 12:32 ammasu pasākumi joprojām ne pārāk iet pie sirds, bet šoreiz bija diezgan forši, laikam galvenais ir tas, lai ir kaut kas, ko darīt, ne tikai ēst, dzert un tusēt bulku par augstām cenām. un vakar ar kasparu aizgājām uz elbow, tā bija viena no tām pāris grupām, kuras kādreiz ļoti daudz klausījos, bet vēl nebiju nekad redzējusi dzīvē. un vakar, kad klausījos, kā viņi ļoti skaisti dziedāja the bones of you, kur viņš dzied and it's you and it's me, and we're sleeping through the day, and I'm five years ago, and three thousand miles away, un līgojos līdzi un domāju par to, cik forši būtu tomēr kaut ko just, nevis būt un funkcionēt kā tādam emocionālam atsaldenim, kā pēdējā laikā jūtos, un tad man bija visādas nejaušas un pēkšņas un fantastiskas satikšanās, un tad es aizgāju gulēt, pamodos ar ļoti lielu smagumu pakrūtē, sapratu, ka baigi stulbi un ka laiks tomēr parūpēties par sevi, tāpēc sagaidīju, kad mūsu šoferis atvedīs biedrus un atbraucu atpakaļ uz rīgu. tāds kā drudzis, tāda kā saaukstēšanās, milzīgs klepus un iesnas, saslimt jūlijā vienmēr liek justies kā tādam dieva nepieņemtam radījumam, tāpēc tagad sēžu mājās ar tēju un skatos star wars.bet nu galvenā atziņa laikam ir tāda, ka eiropa ir mazāka, nekā man likās. un tas ir gan labi, gan biedējoši vienlaikus, jo pēkšņi everything un every place matters. |
1/28/14 08:47 pmdzīve ar Līvu ir lieliska, mums jau gadiem bieži sanāk visādas sirsnīgas situācijas un lieliskas frāzes. absolūtā vidusskolas klasika, protams, ir tas, ka uz jautājumiem par to, kāpēc kaut kur neej, jāatbild ar tāpēc, ka esmu neglīta un man nav draugu. Tas vienmēr aizvēra visiem mutes un ļāva izvairīties no tālākas lietu skaidrošanas. pirms pāris dienām Līva nāca klajā ar vēl vienu lielisku atbildi, ko plānoju izmantot īpaši kaitinošās situācijās, kad kāds prasa, vai redzēju, ko viņš/viņa nošēroja feisbukā. Es to uzdevu Līvai, uz ko viņa atbildēja, ka Nē, es neredzu tavus postus, jo esmu tevi nobloķējusi. jau tagad varu iztēloties cilvēku sejas, kad to viņiem teikšu. |
12/15/12 09:02 pmman patīk atkārtoti dalīties ar skaistiem tekstiem. |
11/11/12 11:16 pmmat.:i am trying to find anagrams for people's names I've been working on yours but i didn't get much further than le gone sign aa! |
9/8/12 05:36 pmYes. God help him, he will in all likelihood say yes. With not even the ghost of an illusion about how it'll turn out in the end. He's ready, with the merest encouragement, to destroy his life, and no one, not one single person he knows, will sympathize./M. Cunningman, By Nightfall |
5/17/12 08:49 pm"es neesmu vecs, man vienkārši ir daudz gadu'' (mans tētis) |
3/1/12 04:19 pmir divas vērtības, kas man parasti uzlabo pašsajūtu, ja kaut kas nav lāgā. tādiem vieglākiem gadījumiem, kad vienkārši vajag kādu, kurš iedvesmojoši pasaka c'mon, cheer up!, es skatos Singin' in the rain. smagākiem gadījumiem, kad pasaule liekas zudusi un norakstīta, ir John Donne dzeja. šodiena, piemēram, ir smaga diena, tāpēc starp daudzajiem skolas tab'iem vislaik vaļā arī John Donne. Metaphysical Poetry lapa. |
2/27/12 11:34 am( dienas dzejas deva ) |
2/13/12 10:23 pmDear Leonard,To look life in the face. Always. To look life in the face. And to know it, for what it is. At last to know it, to love it for what it is. And then - to put it away. Leonard, Always the years between us. Always the years. Always the love. Always the hours. |
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