‘Right,’ I said, ‘no more Klage,’ and when I looked up at the Vermeer girl it was Medusa I saw, flickering and friendly, trusting me with the idea of her. Russell Hoban, The Medusa Frequency (thanks, theheadoforpheus)
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writerstalking:

Ian Fleming and Raymond Chandler discuss each other’s writing in this 1958 BBC interview.

via Flavorwire.

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thelifeguardlibrarian:

Gertrude Stein

thelifeguardlibrarian:

Gertrude Stein

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calling-home:

Tracks

2 am: moonlight. The train has stopped
out in the middle of the plain. Far away, points of light in a town,
flickering coldly at the horizon.

As when a man has gone into a dream so deep
he’ll never remember having been there
when he comes back to his room.

As when someone has gone into an illness so deep
everything his days were becomes a few flickering points, a swarm,
cold and tiny at the horizon.

The train is standing quite still.
2 am: bright moonlight, few stars.

Tomas Tranströmer

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writerstalking:

Tomas Tranströmer, 2011 Literature Nobel Prize winner, reads and discusses his poem Schubertiana.

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O my love, where are they, where are they going
The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.
Czeslaw Milosz, from “Encounter,” trans. Milosz and Lillian Vallee (via proustitute)
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That said, it is pointless trying to decide whether Zenobia is to be classified among happy cities or among the unhappy. It makes no sense to divide cities into these two species, but rather into another two: those that through the years and the changes continue to give their form to desires, and those in which desires either erase the city or are erased by it. Italo Calvino | Invisible Cities | pg. 35 (via evoketheforms)
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Some one said: ‘The dead writers are remote from us because we know so much more than they did.’ Precisely, and they are that which we know. T. S. Eliot, from “Tradition and the Individual” (via proustitute)
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A day in which I don’t write leaves a taste of ashes. Simone de Beauvoir, as quoted in Anne Whitmarsh’s Simone de Beauvoir and the Limits of Commitment (via proustitute)
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This appears to be our mission, however humble or dubious

magnificentruin:

“If I am not mistaken, the heterogeneous pieces I have enumerated resemble Kafka; if I am not mistaken, not all of them resemble each other. This second fact is more significant. In each of these texts we find Kafka’s idiosyncrasy to a greater or lesser degree, but if Kafka had never written a line, we would not perceive this quality; in other words, it would not exist.”

Jorge Luis Borges
Kafka and His Precursors

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