Saints have no moderation,
nor do poets,
just exuberance.
The Saints Come Marching In // Anne Sexton
MIND
MIND: Obliterate
A savage desire for strong emotions and sensations burns inside me: a rage against this soft-tinted, shallow, standardized and sterilized life, and a mad craving to smash something up, a department store, say, or a cathedral, or myself.
Steppenwolf // Hermann Hesse
MIND: Fluid
I have never been able to understand people with consistent lives – people who, for example, grow up in a liberal Catholic household and stay that way; or who in junior high school are already laying down a record on which to run for president one day. Imagine having no discarded personalities, no vestigial selves, no visible ruptures with yourself, no gulf of self-forgetfulness, nothing that requires explanation, no alien version of yourself that requires humor and accommodation. What kind of life is that?
Tongues Untied // Michael Warner
MIND: Unfolding
Growth is exciting; growth is dynamic and alarming. Growth of the soul, growth of the mind…
Twelve Days // Vita Sackville-West
MIND: Realist
Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.
// Václav Havel
MIND: Droll
It was August. She was laughing, she felt carefree, her arms were bare and soft, and she had white stockings under her short dress.
// D.H. Lawrence
MIND: Candi(e)d
I who had opened your wound bit on it — did you feel me?
As into the gold of a honeycomb I bit.
// Delmira Agustini
MIND: Solstice
Regenerative experiences: Plunge into the sea. The sun. An old city. Silence.
// Susan Sontag
MIND: Opaque
It is all happening, here and now, the past is waiting for me, it has the blue colour of her eyes.
// Bo Carpelan
MIND: Unity
I regard and respect the genuinely human, living with nature — not going against nature — as refinement. I ask, what most makes me a human being.
// Vincent van Gogh
