Posts tagged words

nevver: Douglas Adams

nevver:

Douglas Adams

nevver

To the man who loves art for its own sake […] it is frequently in its least important and lowliest manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived.
Sherlock Holmes - The Adventure of the Copper Beeches
There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.
Sherlock Holmes - The Boscombe Valley Mystery
I never remember feeling tired by work, though idleness exhausts me completely.
Sherlock Holmes - The Sign of Four, Chapter Eight: The Baker Street Irregulars

Words are fried, mashed and baked here.: Ten of My Favourite Poems

potatonutx:

I was doing a meme elsewhere where I had to pick my top five poems. That seemed too cruel a number. So, I decided to add five more and thought I might as well post it here.

(I have the dullest opening lines.)

In no particular order:

+ Porphyria’s Lover by Robert Browning: So powerful and…

potatonutx

Sherlock Holmes and I looked blankly at each other and then burst simultaneously into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
The Sign of Four, Chapter Seven: The Episode of the Barrel

myedol:

If You Can Dream It You Must Do It by Mark Titchner

thenewmt.wordpress.com

There comes a time when you look into the mirror and you realize that what you see is all that you will ever be. And then you accept it. Or you kill yourself. Or you stop looking in mirrors.
Tennessee Williams (via mariposima)

leda-swanson

gingerhaole: So sayeth Michael Franti.

gingerhaole:

So sayeth Michael Franti.

gingerhaole

whitepaperquotes

If it’s just not your faraday and the bothe keplerizes, don’t give up and walk the planck! Hop in the shcrödinghy; you’ve got a 50/50 chance of making it to bohr.

Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together.
Anais Nin (via danceabletragedy)

danceabletragedy

It would be no exaggeration to say that he would go out after breakfast a man of thirty and come home to dinner a man of fifty-five at least. Some weeks added a century to his age, others no more than three months at most.
Virginia Woolf, Orlando
He opened his eyes, which had been wide open all the time, but had seen only thoughts.
Virginia Woolf, Orlando
Nature, who has played so many queer tricks upon us, making us so unequally of clay and diamonds, of rainbow and granite, and stuffed them into a case, often of the most incongruous, for the poet has a butcher’s face and the butcher a poet’s; nature, who delights in muddle and mystery, so that even now (the first of November 1927) we know not why we go upstairs, or why we come down again, our most daily movements are like the passage of a ship on an unknown sea.
Virginia Woolf, Orlando