The Whole Of My Heart Is An Infinite Cauldron Of Honey, For You. Remove Myself To Make Room. To House

“What have you done this time, Mr. Snape? This is the third time I’m escorting you to the hospital wing this week!”

— Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

[text ID:   Yesterday I advised you not to write me every day, I still hold the same opinion today and it would be very good for both of us, and so I repeat my advice today even more emphatically- only please, Milena, don't listen to me, and write me every day anyway, it can even be very brief, briefer than today's letters, just 2 lines, just one, just one word, but if I had to go without them I would suffer terribly.]

— The Thing Is, Ellen Bass

[text ID: to love life, to love it even / when you have no stomach for it]

Monet's Garden, Giverny, France ( via )

"Severus, please."

— a fragment of a letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh

[text ID: Many people would undoubtedly consider it foolish and superstitious to go on believing in a change for the better. It is sometimes so bitterly cold in the winter that one says, `The cold is too awful for me to care whether summer is coming or not; the harm outdoes the good.' But with or without our approval, the severe weather does come to an end eventually and one fine morning the wind changes and there is the thaw. When I compare the state of the weather to our state of mind and our circumstances, subject to change and fluctuation like the weather, then I still have some hope that things may get better.]

Albert Camus // Jack Kerouac

“But being is making: not only large things, a family, a book, a business: but the shape we give this afternoon, a conversation between two friends, a meal.”

— Frank Bidart, from “Advice to the Players”, Star Dust