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    "Sometimes at night he stands in the crowd. He sees her smile and his heart falls out of him. Among the dancers turning in the orange light, he can find her in an instant. He knows her calves, the shape of her body better than her lover, and those high-heeled shoes with their thin straps, as they move around the floor they are ripping his dreams." - James Salter

    "Sometimes at night he stands in the crowd. He sees her smile and his heart falls out of him. Among the dancers turning in the orange light, he can find her in an instant. He knows her calves, the shape of her body better than her lover, and those high-heeled shoes with their thin straps, as they move around the floor they are ripping his dreams." - James Salter

     
  2. 21:39 30th Aug 2014

    Notes: 9

    Reblogged from amospoe

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    amospoe:

"To Mary Lou. If I was a head of lettuce, I’d break myself in two, I’d give a leaf to every friend, and save my heart for you."
— William Demarest

    amospoe:

    "To Mary Lou. If I was a head of lettuce, I’d break myself in two, I’d give a leaf to every friend, and save my heart for you."

    — William Demarest

     
  3. On Garrel’s La Jalousie

    “After a few days without you, I go nuts, I lose it. If one of us ever cheats, do we say so?” he asks.

    “You’re so complicated,” she teases dryly.

    “I’m not. I’d rather know. You’d rather not?” he asks.

    “I just need you to love me. Love me. And for us both to be happy,” she responds.

    A pause.

    “We’re happy, you think?”

    “I think we’re perfectly happy. I think it’s pretty ideal, even,” she says. “Me too, then.”

    Pretty ideal: for her. Later, his mistress says, “I can handle being broke, but not poor,” and later still, she surprises him with the display of a large, bright apartment being restored.

    “He must love you to give you this,” he says of the other man. “This is nuts. You don’t even deny it!”

    She’s Gallic savoir-faire through and through. “We’re here to have as full a life as possible.”

    A man, he’s still elementally a boy: “Imagining you with another guy hurts.”

    “Don’t imagine it,” she says in her raspy voice, notably off-camera, “Enjoy it when we’re together. Forget it when we’re not. When I’m with you, I want to be.”

    He stares, struck. “Why are you trying to hurt me? Why do you want to hurt me?”

    “I don’t want to hurt you,” she says, “I thought you’d be happy.”

    The floorboards of the unfinished apartment creak. That sound is like the roar of an ice floe breaking off, small, mouse-tiny, yet it’s like the calving of a glacier. That split-second is cinema. That split-second is the rending of two hearts. Plus, the never-mastered lesson, pride kills. Or pride, at the very least, mixed with a toxic cocktail of self-pity, will make you want to harm yourself.

    link

     
  4. image: Download

    #balloon man #thermaikos #olympus #thessaloniki #salonica #greece

    #balloon man #thermaikos #olympus #thessaloniki #salonica #greece

     
  5. image: Download

    "If I could kill you I would then have to make another exactly like you." "#Beauty of the #Husband," by "#AnneCarson Lives in #Canada."

    "If I could kill you I would then have to make another exactly like you." "#Beauty of the #Husband," by "#AnneCarson Lives in #Canada."

     
  6. 00:28

    Notes: 1

    Tags: wesandersoneecummings

    image: Download

    Buffalo Bill’sdefunctwho used toride a watersmooth-silverstallionand break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat Jesus he was a handsome manand what i want to know ishow do you like your blueeyed boyMister Death
#eecummings #wesanderson

    Buffalo Bill’s
    defunct
    who used to
    ride a watersmooth-silver
    stallion
    and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat
    Jesus
    he was a handsome man

    and what i want to know is
    how do you like your blueeyed boy
    Mister Death

    #eecummings #wesanderson

     
  7. image: Download

    The woman dreamt of rain. The night had been heavy with the rot of August humidity and ripe Chicago alleys. Her sleeping body was held in its demanding hug. The rain she dreamt was a succession of cool curtains, then a warm, cascading wave. It was a forgiving rain. It came suddenly. The sky was pale with heat and then dense with blue and then a tummy rumble of thunder to the west. The smell of fine dust in damp breeze rose off the avenues below. It was the middle of the day on a Monday but the city seemed to still, hushed in anticipation of deluge. Now awake, she sat on the windowsill and watched pigeons soar then duck in urgent formation. A thin ridge of lightning defined her view from sky to earth and north from south for only a moment. The backlight of overcast lit layers of massing sky from within. The rumbling grew. She closed her eyes and turned her cheeks up for a freckling of droplets. She was waiting for the water like the woman she was in her dream. It would come.

    The woman dreamt of rain. The night had been heavy with the rot of August humidity and ripe Chicago alleys. Her sleeping body was held in its demanding hug. The rain she dreamt was a succession of cool curtains, then a warm, cascading wave. It was a forgiving rain. It came suddenly. The sky was pale with heat and then dense with blue and then a tummy rumble of thunder to the west. The smell of fine dust in damp breeze rose off the avenues below. It was the middle of the day on a Monday but the city seemed to still, hushed in anticipation of deluge. Now awake, she sat on the windowsill and watched pigeons soar then duck in urgent formation. A thin ridge of lightning defined her view from sky to earth and north from south for only a moment. The backlight of overcast lit layers of massing sky from within. The rumbling grew. She closed her eyes and turned her cheeks up for a freckling of droplets. She was waiting for the water like the woman she was in her dream. It would come.

     
  8. #spring in #august #chicago #rain

     
  9. Sometimes, a fling is just a fling—not a grand and blossoming love. Coming to terms with this disappointment is part of the dues one must pay in a life well-lived.
     
  10. 23:04

    Notes: 1

    Tags: bluereachcloudjetliner

    image: Download

    #reach #jetliner #blue #cloud

    #reach #jetliner #blue #cloud

     
  11. The brush swept down and ripped free until, abruptly, she quit brushing, stepped into the living room, dropped onto the couch, leaned back against the brick wall, and went totally limp. Then, from behind long black bangs, her eyes moved, looked at me. The question of what to do with my life was resolved for the next four years.
    — "Sylvia," Leonard Michaels
     
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    #skyline #chicago #arrowing #dusk #blue #bleu #alexablue #JupiterAscending

    #skyline #chicago #arrowing #dusk #blue #bleu #alexablue #JupiterAscending

     
  13. I’m tired of my life, my clothes, the things I say. I’m hacking away at the surface, as at some kind of gray ice, trying to break through to what is underneath or I am dead. I can feel the surface trembling—it seems ready to give but it never does. I am uninterested in current events. How can I justify this? How can I explain it? I don’t want to have the same vocabulary I’ve always had. I want something richer, broader, more penetrating and powerful.
    — James Salter, “Memorable Days: The Selected Letters of James Salter and Robert Phelps”
     
  14. image: Download

    #rust #gray #sky

    #rust #gray #sky

     
  15. Dig deep where you are. Don’t slip off elsewhere. Double, triple bottom to things.
    — Robert Bresson, via Masha Tupitsyn.