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February 24, 2013 by Sineokov

It was either this or Footloose

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July 6, 2012 by Sineokov

A conversation with my 12 year old self

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In all the edifice of thought, I have found no category on which to rest my head. . . .

- E. M. Cioran

Top Entries

Landscape :: Louise Glück
October :: Louise Glück
Poems from the Book of Hours
Averno :: Louise Glück
Dreamtigers Introduction
Was that life? Well then! Once more!
Now the hour bows down, it touches me, throbs
Dreamtigers
On Natural Death :: Lewis Thomas
Gods :: Vladimir Nabokov

'Self-knowledge'? A contradiction in terms.

- E. M. Cioran

. . . feast on ancient books to the lazy enchanting lap of wavelets in the Floating Library, in memoriam of Dr. Sineokov, who had drowned at just that spot in the city river. The grinding of chains, the little gallery with its orange-colored lamp shades, the plash, the water's smooth surface oiled by the moon, and, in the distance, lights flickering past in the black web of a lofty bridge . . .

- Vladimir Nabokov

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I have at this moment so many fundamental thoughts, so many truly metaphysical things to say, that I suddenly get tired and decide not to write any more, not to think any more, but to allow the fever of speaking to make me sleepy, and with my eyes closed, like a cat, I play with everything I could have said.

- Bernardo Soares

Raison d’être

There they are, in my own handwriting: the words that have been my prayer, evening after evening. I copied them from the books I found them in, so that they would be right in front of me, issued from my hand as if they were my own words. And now I want to write them again, kneeling here before my tablet I want to write them; for in this way I can have them with me longer than when I read them, and every word will last and have time to echo and fade away.

- R. M. Rilke

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