July 2011
69 posts
It may be that friendship is nourished on observation and conversation, but love...
– Gilles Deleuze, Proust and Signs, trans. Richard Howard (via proustitute)
Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing sometimes.
Pardon me, deserts, for not...
– Wislawa Szymborska, from “Under a Certain Little Star,” trans. Joanna Trzeciak (adapted from sharingpoetry)
June 2011
187 posts
2 tags
1 tag