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901968a
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A diary with no drawings of me in it? Where are the torrid fantasies? The romance covers?
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humor
jace-wayland
diary
sarcasm
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Cassandra Clare |
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2192d39
|
It's a good thing most people bleed on the inside or this would be a gory, blood-smeared earth.
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diary
marijuana
pot
go-ask-alice
drugs
heroin
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Beatrice Sparks |
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3c9babe
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Everyone thinks I'm showing off when I talk, ridiculous when I'm silent, insolent when I answer, cunning when I have a good idea, lazy when I'm tired, selfish when I eat one bite more than I should.
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world-war-ii
diary
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Anne Frank |
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c5172d3
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Concert pianists get to be quite chummy with dead composers. They can't help it. Classical music isn't just . It's a personal diary. An uncensored confession in the dead of night. A baring of the soul. Take a modern example. Florence and the Machine? In the song 'Cosmic Love,' she catalogs the way in which the world has gone dark, distorting her, when she, a rather intense young woman, was left bereft by a love affair. 'The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out.
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music
classical-music
cosmic-love
florence-and-the-machine
florence-welch
night-film
love-affair
lyrics
confession
thriller
mystery
diary
horror
suspense
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Marisha Pessl |
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fe4479f
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She abandoned herself to his whim, thinking it was to be an orgy of eyes and hands only.
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erotic-writing
diary
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Anaïs Nin |
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aa5db94
|
I am a woman first of all. At the core of my work was a journal written for the father I lost, loved and wanted to keep. I am personal. I am essentially human, not intellectual. I do not understand abstract act. Only art born of love, passion, pain.
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|
pain
passion
women
love
diary
|
Anaïs Nin |
|
0f00899
|
Why should I be sad? Everyone has to die. If you have a body, it's too late to cry. It's only funerals I can't stand.
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diary
supernatural
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Rachel Klein |
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18986e3
|
It is entirely conceivable that life's splendour forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from our view, deep down, invisible, far off. It is there, though, not hostile, not reluctant, not deaf. If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come. This is the essence of magic, which does not create but summons Franz Kafka, 18 October 1921 Es ist sehr gut denkbar, dass die Herrlichkeit des Lebes um jeden und immer in ihrer ganzen Fulle bereitliegt, aber verhangt, in der Tiefe, unsichtbar, sehr weit. Aber sie liegt dort, nicht feindselig, nicht widerwillig, nicht taub. Ruft man sie mit dem richtigen Wort, beim richtigen Namen, dann kommt sie. Das ist das Wesen der Zauberei, die nicht schafft, sondern ruft. Kafkas Tagebucher,18 Oktober 1921
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magic
hope
splendour
diary
|
Franz Kafka |
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b7e9e43
|
Today there's no one here, so I find a rock and open my notebook filled with letters to Lucca, reading them, noticing how the letters decreased in frequency over the past couple of months. When i started, shortly after he died, I wrote them every day. I hurt so bad, I wanted to scream, but I couldn't, so my words on the page became a diary of the pain.
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|
chasing-brooklyn
lucca
lisa-schroeder
diary
|
Lisa Schroeder |
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0b5754d
|
It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness
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|
diary
|
Chuck Palahniuk |
|
865b4fc
|
You sought to preserve your creative instincts and what would nourish them. But neurosis itself does not nourish the artist, you know; he creates in spite of it, out of anything, any material given to him. The torments and hells of [crazy men], are not for you.
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|
nourishment-of-soul
diary
instincts
artist
|
Anaïs Nin |
|
0dd4629
|
... my joints ache with fatigue, my dried up body trembles toward its own destruction in turmoils of which I dare not become fully conscious, in my head are astonishing convulsions.
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franz-kafka
diary
|
Franz Kafka |
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fb37938
|
One sequence of these diary notes had lasted longer than most, and by their content he saw that they came from the time right after his father had died. One line stuck him like a thorn: Alone in the house. Must get used to it. He stared at her crabbed handwriting. He saw how it must have been, and sat down in the nearest chair. A spasm of sorrow passed through him, followed after a while by a wash of relief, as he realized that his mom was now finally freed of the intense burden of staying happy after his father was gone. Twenty years of driven, relentless effort.
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|
grief
family
diary
|
Kim Stanley Robinson |