"For it is often the way we look at other people that imprisons them within their own narrowest allegiances. And it is also the way we look at them that may set them free."

—

Amin Maalouf. From his book, In the Name of Identity. (via ohmalta)

Les identités meurtrières, 1998.

The King is come. Deal midly with his youth,

For young hot colts, being reined, do rage the more. 

The Hollow Crown

"In a moment, when I throw myself down among the absinthe plants to bring their scent into my body, I shall know, appearances to the contrary, that I am fulfilling a truth which is the sun’s and which will also be my death’s. In a sense, it is indeed my life that I am staking here, a life that tastes of warm stone, that is full of the signs of the sea and the rising song of the crickets. The breeze is cool and the sky blue. I love this life with abandon and wish to speak of it boldly: it makes me proud of my human condition. Yet people have often told me: there’s nothing to be proud of. Yes, there is: this sun, this sea, my heart leaping with youth, the salt taste of my body and this vast landscape in which tenderness and glory merge in blue and yellow. It is to conquer this that I need my strength and my resources. Everything here leaves me intact, I surrender nothing of myself, and don no mask: learning patiently and arduously how to live is enough for me, well worth all their arts of living."

—

Albert Camus, Nuptials

(via ludimagister)

28decembre:

Bandol (Var) (par Lottie_05)

Want.

"Then a lawyer said, “But what of our Laws, master?”
And he answered:
You delight in laying down laws,
Yet you delight more in breaking them.
Like children playing by the ocean who build sand-towers with constancy and then destroy them with laughter.
But while you build your sand-towers the ocean brings more sand to the shore,
And when you destroy them, the ocean laughs with you.
Verily the ocean laughs always with the innocent.

But what of those to whom life is not an ocean, and man-made laws are not sand-towers,
But to whom life is a rock, and the law a chisel with which they would carve it in their own likeness?
What of the cripple who hates dancers?
What of the ox who loves his yoke and deems the elk and deer of the forest stray and vagrant things?
What of the old serpent who cannot shed his skin, and calls all others naked and shameless?
And of him who comes early to the wedding-feast, and when over-fed and tired goes his way saying that all feasts are violation and all feasters law-breakers?

What shall I say of these save that they too stand in the sunlight, but with their backs to the sun?
They see only their shadows, and their shadows are their laws.
And what is the sun to them but a caster of shadows?
And what is it to acknowledge the laws but to stoop down and trace their shadows upon the earth?
But you who walk facing the sun, what images drawn on the earth can hold you?
You who travel with the wind, what weathervane shall direct your course?
What man’s law shall bind you if you break your yoke but upon no man’s prison door?
What laws shall you fear if you dance but stumble against no man’s iron chains?
And who is he that shall bring you to judgment if you tear off your garment yet leave it in no man’s path?
People of Orphalese, you can muffle the drum, and you can loosen the strings of the lyre, but who shall command the skylark not to sing?"

— Khalil Gibran, The Prophet

"Il marchait sur un pied sans savoir où il poserait l’autre. Au tournant de la rue le vent balayait la poussière et sa bouche avide engouffrait tout l’espace. Il se mit à courir espérant s’envoler d’un moment à l’autre, mais au bord du ruisseau les pavés étaient humides et ses bras battant l’air n’ont pu le retenir. Dans sa chute il comprit qu’il était plus lourd que son rêve et il aima, depuis, le poids qui l’avait fait tomber."

— Pierre Reverdy, La Saveur du réel (via abalem)

middleeasternpoetry:

Every child has known God. Not the God of names, not the God of don’ts, but the God who only knows four words: Come dance with me. Come dance. - Hafiz 

i-am-lola:

untitled on Flickr.

a messy affair

© .. c ..

"Freedom cannot be given; freedom is something that comes into being when you do not seek it; it comes into being only when you know you are a prisoner, when you know for yourself completely the state of being conditioned, when you know you are held by society, by culture, by tradition, held by whatever you have been told. Freedom is order - it is never disorder - and one must have freedom, completely, both outwardly and inwardly; without freedom there is no clarity; without freedom you can’t love; without freedom you can’t find truth; without freedom you can’t go beyond the limitation of the mind. You must demand it with all your being. When you so demand it, you will find out for yourself what order is - and order is not the following of a pattern, a design; it is not the outcome of habit."

— J. Krishnamurti (via substancem)

bigfatfeminist:

Courtesy of Crystal. Enjoy!

"Il est bien peu de monstres qui méritent la peur que nous en avons.

[…] Ô toi pour qui j’écris - que j’appelais autrefois d’un nom qui me paraît aujourd’hui trop plaintif : Nathanaël, que j’appelle aujourd’hui : camarade, n’admets plus rien de plaintif en ton cœur.
Sache obtenir de toi ce qui rende la plainte inutile. N’implore plus d’autrui ce que, toi, tu peux obtenir.
J’ai vécu; maintenant c’est ton tour. C’est en toi désormais que se prolongera ma jeunesse. Je te passe pouvoir. Si je te sens me succéder, j’accepterai mieux de mourir. Je reporte sur toi mon espoir.
De te sentir vaillant me permet de quitter sans regrets la vie. Prends ma joie. Fais ton bonheur d’augmenter celui de tous. Travaille et lutte et n’accepte de mal rien de ce que tu pourrais changer. Sache te répéter sans cesse : il ne tient qu’à moi. On ne prend point son parti sans lâcheté de tout le mal qui dépend des hommes. Cesse de croire, si tu l’as jamais cru, que la sagesse est dans la résignation; ou cesse de prétendre à la sagesse.
Camarade, n’accepte pas la vie telle que te la proposent les hommes. Ne cesse point de te persuader qu’elle pourrait être plus belle, la vie; la tienne et celle des autres hommes; non point une autre, future qui nous consolerait de celle-ci et nous aiderait à accepter sa misère. N’accepte pas. Du jour où tu commenceras à comprendre que le responsable de presque tous les maux de la vie, ce n’est pas Dieu, ce sont les hommes, tu ne prendras plus ton parti de ces maux.

Ne sacrifie pas aux idoles."

— André Gide, Les nouvelles nourritures, 1935

“CYRANO, rayonnant.

C’est à Paris que je retombe !

(Tout à fait à son aise, riant, s’époussetant, saluant.)

J’arrive - excusez-moi - par la dernière trombe.
Je suis un peu couvert d’éther. J’ai voyagé !
J’ai les yeux tout remplis de poudre d’astres. J’ai
Aux éperons, encor, quelques poils de planète !

(Cueillant quelque chose sur sa manche)

Tenez, sur mon pourpoint, un cheveu de comète !

(Il souffle comme pour le faire envoler)

DE GUICHE, hors de lui.

Monsieur !…”

(1897)