You know how much I love collecting and sharing quotes, and you seem to like it whenever I compile a thematic collection of quotes.
But, I also discover and collect quotes from different sources during any given day from diverse contexts and with various themes.
So, I thought about creating a little series that captures just that: my favorite quotes I stumbled upon during the week.
Sounds good?
Great, let’s dive in!
The sofa is a family relic. When I was first married, we found, in the attic space of a friend’s old chicken coop, the skeleton of a sofa. We were living in a tiny apartment on West End Avenue; the appeal of the forlorn sofa was that it was small. We brought it back in pieces tied to the roof of the car, and a few weeks later I had it re-covered with seven yards of pale silk twill embroidered with a pattern of pale red stripes and pink and yellow flowers: the choice of a person who has not yet had children or cats. A decade later the sofa moved to a larger apartment overlooking Morningside Park. By then I had acquired three children and a second husband, who conceived a deep dislike of the sofa, which he said was a Victorian copy of an early eighteenth-century design. There was a baby on the way. The brocade flowers unraveled. Laundry piled up on the sofa. When we moved to a drafty house down below the park, the sofa, now shreds, as the children liked to pick at the embroidery, was put between the windows at the end of the dining room until, in a frenzy of domestic renovation, it was shoved against the wall by the front door.
from Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963 by Susan Sontag
I must not think of the solar system—of innumerable galaxies spanned by countless light years—of infinities of space—I must not look up at the sky for longer than a moment—I must not think of death, of forever—I must not do all those things so that I will not know these horrible moments when my mind seems a tangible thing—more than my mind—my whole spirit—all that animates me and is the original and responsive desire that constitutes my “self”—all this takes on a definite shape and size —far too large to be contained by the structure I call my body—All this pulls and pushes—years and strains (I feel it now) until I must clench my fists—I rise—who can keep still—every muscle is on a rack—striving to build itself into an immensity—I want to scream—my stomach feels compressed—my legs, feet, toes stretching until they hurt.
from How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy by Jenny Odell
Ultimately, I argue for a view of the self and of identity that is the opposite of the personal brand: an unstable, shapeshifting thing determined by interactions with others and with different kinds of places.
from Selected poems of Edna St. Vincent Millay
Why do you follow me?—
Any moment I can be
Nothing but a laurel-tree.
Any moment of the chase
I can leave you in my place
A pink bough for your embrace.
Yet if over hill and hollow
Still it is your will to follow,
I am off;—to heel, Apollo!
― Daphne
from Art on My Mind by Bell Hooks
I AM a girl who dreams of leisure, always have. Reverie has always been necessary to my existence. I have needed long hours where I am stretched out, wearing silks, satins, and cashmeres, just alone with myself, embraced by the beauty around me. I have.always been a girl for fibers, for textiles, and for the feel of comforting cloth against my skin. When I have adorned myself just so, I am ready for the awesome task of just lingering, spending uninterrupted time with my thoughts, dreams, and intense yearnings, often the kind that, like unrequited love, go unful- filled. Lately, in the midst of that solitude, I find myself writing, spinning words together in my head so as not to lose or forget the insights, the sharp moments of clarity that come during this quiet time, that surface amid the luxurious smells of expensive French lemon verbena soap and fruity perfume, a book in my hand.
Although Margaret Henderson was a young woman who lived in direct disregard of the old advice, “Early to bed and early to rise,” yet was she healthy, wealthy and wise to an abundant and gratifying degree.
Her luxurious habits kept her in bed until the day had settled into its own groove and was smoothly running toward noon. But Miss Henderson’s early-morning hours were not always idle. Weighty questions were considered and momentous decisions arrived at while the curly blond head lay resting on the pillows. Then with the morning chocolate came the morning mail and pretty Miss Henderson smiled or frowned as she read between the lines of her social correspondence.
from Ariel by Sylvia Plath
In any case, you are always there,
Tremulous breath at the end of my line,
Curve of water upleaping
To my water rod, dazzling and grateful,
Touching and sucking.
I didn't call you.
I didn't call you at all.
Nevertheless, nevertheless
You steamed to me over the sea,
Fat and red, a placenta.
― excerpt from Medusa.
I hope you enjoyed this little post.
Share your favorite quote of the week in the comments below. I can’t wait to read them.
Wishing you a wonderful rest of the week,
Nicole.