Sayingounprovoked - Kei

Im enjoying the longevity of tumblrs recontextualization style of humor. a seemingly innocuous post followed by like "posts that a gnome would make" or like "are you a phone"

une passion pour jeanne d’arc, stella tennant by paolo roversi for vogue paris february 1994

Season 1 and 4 sketches :D

writers and artists will go "this isn't good enough." my brother in christ, you're creating something new out of nothing and expressing yourself creatively. your productivity and unrealistic standards of perfection do not define you or the worth of your art. you're doing great.

I must retire to my chamber now that you've turned on the biggie big head light but lament no more for I shall be vocal stimming very loudly from there so you could still enjoy the abundant warmth of my company

Sometimes when I am reading a Greek text I force myself to look up all the words in the dictionary, even the ones I think I know. It is surprising what you learn that way. Some of the words turn out to sound quite different than you thought. Sometimes the way they sound can make you ask questions you wouldn't otherwise ask. Lately I have begun to question the Greek word sophrosyne. I wonder about this concept of self-control and whether it really is, as the Greeks believed, an answer to most questions of human goodness and dilemmas of civility. I wonder if there might not be another idea of human order than repression, another notion of human virtue than self-control, another kind of human self than one based on dissociation of inside and outside. Or indeed, another human essence than self.

from "The Gender of Sound" by Anne Carson

I love how people would come up with a novel way to sign off a letter, a quirky way to be "yours."

— from Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson

"[...] Revising the perceived sad ending of the entry, Geryon again borrows from “Red Meat,” this time its final fragment, writing, “All over the world the beautiful red breezes went on blowing hand/ in hand,” shifting away from self-centering and instead highlighting red’s continuance without him and its propensity for connection, despite Geryon’s own alienation. Redness is not exclusive to boys but can belong to breezes too."

— from Anne Carson: “Red Meat: Fragments of Stesichoros” by Kristi Maxwell

it's so fucked up that francis spent months thinking about wrapping his hands around james's neck in anger and instead their relationship ends with him gently caressing his throat