Lust for Life

"But then, no artist is normal; if he were, he wouldn't be an artist. Normal men don't create works of art. They eat, sleep, hold down routine jobs, and die. You are hypersensitive to life and nature; that's why you are able to interpret for the rest of us. But if you are not careful, that very hypersensitiveness will lead you to your destruction. The strain of it breaks every artist in time."

irving stone

The Art of being a Pedestrian in New York

A pedestrian in New York City is more than just another poor soul walking down the street in just another super-sized American urban sprawl. The proof is in the proving that any heart-hardened New Yorker can tell an out-of-towner just from the way that he walks, much less the way that he talks. Pedestrians of New York do more than just walk, they jog, swerve, glide, duck, run, push and power through the avenues of their city with a speed and grace that is unmatched by those poor sauntering folks from other parts of the world. New Yorkers need to weave through foot traffic, dance across real traffic, dodge the occasional zealous bike messenger or errant cabbie, dive through closing subway doors and do it all without spilling a drop of coffee or tripping over the dog walker and his cadre of four-legged charges.
And they are adept at it.

New York pedestrians cannot be labeled walkers; they are rush hour sprinters, rainy curb vault jumpers, lunch rush acrobats and Times Square footwork artists. They are all of those things and they recognize those that are not, with the same keen sense of accuracy that a lion uses to find the weakest wildebeest in a traveling herd.

We do not take pity on the slow of step, those without split-second reactions and those without that trademarked New Yorker's sense of purpose and direction, that unmistakably arrogant and punctuated stride. Tourists are left dazed and buffeted about like leaves in a storm, stray notes in an orchestra too massive and foreign to be kept up with. In other cities, we would be in a rush, we would be rude and huffy and inconsiderate, but here at home we are just everyday pedestrians, in fear only of the moment when we are passed by one who is faster and more fleet of foot than we, and in that moment we will hang our heads in shame. -By Adam Redfield

With Arms Outstretched

i visit these
mountains with frequency
and i stand here with my arms out
now somedays they'll last longer than others
but this day by the lake went too fast

Beside You

We follow the river down into the stream
That's where my dream began
I left my worries to the people who stare
And dreamed without a care

That I'd always be beside you
To watch the day and night
And we listen to the sunrise
And feel its growing light
And peace will come inside so quiet

Wherever we're going, I don't know
For a million years our love keeps growing
The mystery deepens, day by day
But trust my love, and hear me say

simply red

What Dreams May Come

Dear Diary, I am writing in your bullshit pages because my shrink is crazier then I am. He thinks you're therapy. He figures if two babies can hammer me into a Psycho ward, what will I do with this ? He is so stupid. He's so stupid that he thinks he pulled me through the breakdown when it was Christy. Always. Only Chis. I was looking through his postcards. Paintings were his obsession. He used art as another way to love me, to help me. To keep us always together.

10 Things I Hate About You

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it that you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.

stephen chbosky

Girl Interrupted

Don't ask me those questions! Dont ask me what life means or how we know reality or why we have to suffer so much. Dont talk about how nothing feels real, how everything is coated with gelatin and shining like oil in the sun.

Perks on Love

"More like the movie where the guy meets a smart girl who wears a lot of sweaters and drinks cocoa. They talk about books and issues and kiss in the rain."

"It's like when you are excited about a girl and you see a couple holding hands, and you feel so happy for them. And other times you see the same couple, and they make you so mad. And all you want is to always feel happy for them because you know that if you do, then it means that you're happy, too"

“I just think its bad when a boy looks at a girl and thinks that the way he sees the girls is better than the girl actually is.”

The Tunnel

As you enter the tunnel, the wind gets sucked away, and you squint from the lights overhead. When you adjust to the lights, you can see the other side in the distance just as the sound of the radio fades to nothing because the waves just can't reach. Then, you're in the middle of the tunnel, and everything becomes a calm dream. As you see the opening get closer, you just can't get there fast enough. And finally, just when you think you'll never get there, you see the opening right in front of you. And the radio comes back even louder than you remember it. And the wind is waiting. And you fly out of the tunnel onto the bridge. And there it is. The city. A million lights and buildings and everything seems as exciting as the first time you saw it.

Vincent

But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

don mclean

Life As a House

If you were a house, you would want to be built on rock over-looking the sea.

I always thought of myself as a house. I was always what I lived in. It didn't need to be big. It didn't even need to be beautiful. It just needed to be mine. I became what I was meant to be. I built myself a life. I built myself a house.

Heroes

We are the heroes of our own stories.

Hail To Whatever You Found In The Sunlight That Surrounds You

Pretend all the good things are for you
pretend all the good things are for me too
And the weather changes not halfway between your house and mine

A Better Son / Daughter

Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can’t move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can’t breathe
And I hope someone will help me this time

But you’ll fight and you’ll make it through
You’ll fake it if you have to
And you’ll show up for work with a smile

And you’ll be better
And you’ll be smarter
And more grown up and a better daughter or son
And a real good friend

And you’ll be awake
You’ll be alert
You’ll be positive though it hurts
And you’ll laugh and embrace all your friends
And you’ll be a real good listener
You’ll be honest
You’ll be brave
You’ll be handsome and you’ll be beautiful
You’ll be happy

Your ship may be coming in
You’re weak but not giving in
To the cries and the wails of the valley below
And your ship may be coming inYou’re weak but not giving in
And you’ll fight itYou’ll go out fighting all of them…

Tennessee Williams

"We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it."

psalm 13

how long O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
how long will you hide your face from me
how long must i wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart....
... look on me and answer, O Lord my God...

But i trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation i will sing to the Lord
for He has been good to me

Sideways

I like to think about the life of wine.

How it's a living thing. I like to think about what was going on the year the grapes were growing; how the sun was shining; if it rained. I like to think about all the people who tended and picked the grapes. And if it's an old wine, how many of them must be dead by now. I like how wine continues to evolve, like if I opened a bottle of wine today it would taste different than if I'd opened it on any other day, because a bottle of wine is actually alive. And it's constantly evolving and gaining complexity. That is, until it peaks, like your '61. And then it begins its steady, inevitable decline.

Blower's Daughter

Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?

I can't take my mind off of you
'Til I find somebody new

damien rice

Waking Life

"Are we sleep-walking through our waking state or wake-walking through our dreams?"