Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer.
House of Leaves, Mark Z. Danielewski (via
conozco)
A sudden rite of spring, Thumper’s spring, though spring has already sprung, rabbit rabbit, and now April’s ruling April’s looming April’s fooling, around, in yet another round, for this year’s ruling April fool.
House of Leaves
…leaving me with absolutely no sound way to determine where the hell I’m going, though right now going to hell seems like a pretty sound bet.
House of Leaves
What can I say, I’m a sucker for abandoned stuff, misplaced stuff, forgotten stuff, any old stuff which despite the light of progress and all that, still vanishes every day like shadows at noon, goings unhearalded, passings unmourned, well, you get the drift
House of Leaves
Out of the blue, beyond any cause you can trace, you’ll suddenly realize things are not how you perceived them to be at all. For some reason, you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. You’ll detect slow and subtle shifts going on all around you, more importantly shifts in you. Worse, you’ll realize it’s always been shifting, like a shimmer of sorts, a vast shimmer, only dark like a room.
House of Leaves