“What is interesting, is that the Frida Kahlo venerated by American feminists is a very different Frida Kahlo to the one people learn about in Mexico, in the Chicano community. In her country, she is recognized as an important artist and a key figure in revolutionary politics of early 20th century Mexico. Her communist affiliations are made very clear. Her relationship with Trotsky is underscored. All her political activities with Diego Rivera are constantly emphasized. The connection between her art and her politics is always made. When Chicana artists became interested in Frida Kahlo in the ‘70s and started organizing homages, they made the connection between her artistic project and theirs because they too were searching for an aesthetic compliment to a political view that was radical and emancipatory. But when the Euro-American feminists latch onto Frida Kahlo in the early ‘80s and when the American mainstream caught on to her, she was transformed into a figure of suffering. I am very critical of that form of appropriation.”—Coco Fusco on her Amerindians piece from 1992 with Guillermo Gómez-Peña
“Every intelligent man laughs in his soul at “bookish” views. And are not books the work of the wise? They are often extremely interesting—but only in so far as they do not contain general rules. Woe to him who would build up his life according to Hegel, Schopenhauer, Tolstoy, Schiller, or Dostoevsky. He must read them, but he must have sense, a mind of his own to live with. Those who have tried to live according to theories from books have found this out. At the best, their efforts produced banality. Man will at last have to realise that clichés are worthless, and that he must live from himself.”—Lev Shestov, All Things are Possible
“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.”—Margaret Atwood, The Penelopiad
“He loved me. He was a complex person with layers of percolating emotions, some of them spiritual, some tortured in a more secular way, and he burned for me. This complicated flame of being was mine.”—No One Belongs Here More Than You by Miranda July
Therefore the Master Acts without doing anything And teaches without saying anything. Things arise and she lets them come; Things disappear and she lets them go. She has but doesn’t possess, Acts but doesn’t expect. When her work is done, she forgets it. That is why it lasts forever.
He had killer eyes, huge, jaded soul-sucking eyes, a nice, easy, lazy smile, big thick lashes, and the lips of a real pervert.
Watching his face in profile, I had felt faint at a sense of destiny between us — as though we were not standing beside each other in an elevator but were on the peaks of two separate and faraway mountains, a deep valley and gorge between us. In that moment, I felt aware in my body of how impossible it would be to cross that distance to get to him.
what was once before you – an exciting, mysterious future – is now behind you. lived; understood; disappointing. you realize you are not special. you have struggled into existence, and are now slipping silently out of it. this is everyone’s experience. every single one. the specifics hardly matter. everyone’s everyone. so you are adele, hazel, claire, olive. you are ellen. all her meager sadnesses are yours; all her loneliness; the gray, straw-like hair; her red raw hands. it’s yours. it is time for you to understand this.
as the people who adore you stop adoring you; as they die; as they move on; as you shed them; as you shed your beauty; your youth; as the world forgets you; as you recognize your transience; as you begin to lose your characteristics one by one; as you learn there is no-one watching you, and there never was, you think only about driving – not coming from any place; not arriving any place. just driving, counting off time. now you are here, at 7:43. now you are here, at 7:44. now you are…
“The show was never concerned with the supernatural, but it was concerned with supernatural thought, and it was concerned with supernatural thinking to the degree that it was concerned with storytelling. So if there was one overarching theme to “True Detective,” I would say it was that as human beings, we are nothing but the stories we live and die by — so you’d better be careful what stories you tell yourself.”—Sjedi, 5.
“We need women who are so strong they can be gentle, so educated they can be humble, so fierce they can be compassionate, so passionate they can be rational, and so disciplined they can be free.”—Kavita Ramdas