What is this craze? Making sense is a futile effort, a fruitless labour. There is always a haunting sense of loneliness and an impending disaster. It’s our biggest fear, isn’t it, loneliness - alone in the city, alone in the vast land, in the big world, the endless universe, drowned in everything….
“What was it then? Could things thrust their hands up and grip one; could the blade cut; the first grasp? Was there no safety? No learning by heart the ways of the world? No guide ,no shelter, but all was miracle, and leaping from the pinnacle of a tower into the air? Could it be,that this was life? - starltling, unexpected, unknown?”—Virginia Woolf,To The Lighthouse. (via fuckyeahvirginiawoolf)
“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”—The Painted Drum by Louise Erdrich (via crimsun)
“I was veiled in a great sadness which was pierced at times by the lightning of my rage. Loneliness, torn apart for a moment by hope, closed over me again.”—Jean Genet, Journal du voleur, 1949 (via fuckyeahexistentialism)