“She grew more and more silent about what really mattered. She curled inside herself like one of those black chimney brushes, the little shellfish you see on the beach, and you touch them, and then go inside and don’t come out.”— Janet Frame, Owls Do Cry
Interviewer:Sartre wrote an essay called “Qu’est-ce que la littérature?” What is literature for you?
Barnes:There are many answers to that question. The shortest is that it’s the best way of telling the truth; it’s a process of producing grand, beautiful, well-ordered lies that tell more truth than any assemblage of facts.
"This is not a world where you can simply express love for other people, where you can praise them. Perhaps it should be. But it’s not. I’ve found that people will fear your enthusiasm and warmth, and wait to hear the price. Which is fair. We’ve all been drawn into someone’s love only to find out that we couldn’t afford it. A little distance buys everyone time."
“Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn’t the world, it wasn’t the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don’t know, but it’s so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.”—Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
Redhead Day (Roodharigendag in Dutch) is the name of a Dutch summer festival that takes place each first weekend of September in the city of Breda, in the Netherlands. The two-day festival is a gathering of people with natural red hair, but is also focused on art related to the colour red. Activities during the festival are lectures, workshops and demonstrations which are aimed specifically at red-haired people. The festival attracts attendance from 50 countries and is free due to sponsorship of the local government. The festival started in 2005 unintentionally by the Dutch painter Bart Rouwenhorst in the small Dutch city Asten. As a painter, he was inspired by artists like Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Gustav Klimt.
Lovecraft would only leave the house after sunset, staying up late to study science and astronomy and to read and write. He would routinely sleep late into the day, developing the pale and gaunt bearing he is now known for. Lovecraft’s mother reportedly called him “grotesque” during his childhood and warned him to hide inside so people couldn’t see him. In 1926, he wrote:
I am essentially a recluse who will have very little to do with people wherever he may be. I think that most people only make me nervous - that only by accident, and in extremely small quantities, would I ever be likely to come across people who wouldn’t.
Bring back Jackie Tyler, the old title sequence, River Song, Raxacoricofallapatorians, Captain Jack Harkness, K-9, Rory, Donna and her grandfather, the Adipose, Craig Owens, Novice Hame, the Master, Liz 10. Pretty please?
Nile Rodgers: «On New Year’s Eve, 1977, we were invited to meet with Grace Jones at Studio 54. She wanted to interview us about recording her next album. At that time, our music was fairly popular — “Dance, Dance, Dance" was a big hit and "Everybody Dance”, although more underground, was doing very well, too — but Grace Jones didn’t leave our name at the door and the doorman wouldn’t let us in. Our music might be playing inside, but the place was packed for New Year’s Eve and this was early in our career. Anyway, my apartment happened to be one block away, so Bernard and I went there to sort of quell our sorrows. We grabbed a couple of bottles of champagne from the corner liquor store and then went back to my place, plugged in our instruments and started jamming.
You see, music was not only our livelihood, it was also our entertainment and recreation. And since we were feeling bad, we played music to make us feel good. We started jamming on the now-famous riff — Bernard and I were particularly good at making up riffs and jamming together. We were really into jamming and we’d often start writing songs that way, sometimes drawing on ideas that were floating around. In this case, however, the riff was super, super simple, so it didn’t have to be pre-planned. It was just something that happened. I had always liked the [Cream] song “Sunshine of your Love”, and I wanted to do a sort of riff song for Chic, although not a complete linear riff — that wouldn’t be like Chic — so I incorporated a little linear lick and we started singing, “Fuck off!" [Repeats the lick.] "Aaaaahh, fuck off!"
We were so pissed off at what had happened. I mean, it was Studio 54, it was New Year’s Eve, it was Grace Jones, and we were wearing the most expensive outfits that we had — back then, in the late ’70s, our suits must have cost us a couple of thousand bucks each, and our really fancy shoes had got soaked trudging through the snow. So "Fuck Off" was a protest song, and we actually thought it was pretty good.»
“Sally watches her daughter and worries.
She knows what happens when you bottle up your sorrow, she knows what she’s done to herself, the walls she’s built, the tower she’s made, stone by stone.
But they’re walls of grief, and the tower is drenched in a thousand tears, and that’s no protection; it will all fall to the ground with one touch.”—[Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic]