"I wasn’t actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity."
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Welcome to Ronkville. Established: 2007 Population: 1 (though we get a lot of visitors passing through)
Click the timestamp to go to the full post or source. And read The Ronkville Morning Bugle to keep up on what news is buzzing around our little hamlet today.
The spring day lasts
visitors Go ahead, ask me a question.
Click the timestamp to go to the full post or source. And read The Ronkville Morning Bugle to keep up on what news is buzzing around our little hamlet today.
The spring day lasts
a little longer
around water
~ Issa
visitors Go ahead, ask me a question.
May 25, 2013
May 23, 2013
"I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy."
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
May 9, 2013
"Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It’s a way of understanding it."
May 1, 2013
"Literature is news that stays news."
— Ezra Pound
On April 18, 1958, poet Ezra Pound was released from St. Elizabeth’s Hospital for the Criminally Insane He had been arrested during World War II for making speeches on Italian radio in praise of fascism and anti-Semitism; friends and fellow poets like Robert Frost and T.S. Eliot deplored his actions but campaigned for his release.
April 29, 2013
"The purpose of a writer is to keep civilization from destroying itself."
— Albert Camus
April 21, 2013
“People aren’t supposed to look back.”
From Slaughterhouse-Five: A Novel
(Source: topnotchbitch, via kdecember)
April 19, 2013
Brian Kimberling’s debut novel, Snapper
Brian Kimberling’s debut novel, Snapper
Nate and his friend Shane (the unfortunate victim of that snapping turtle) decide to while away a rainy weekend with a copy of The Anarchist Cookbook in this excerpt http://www.npr.org/2013/04/09/176577406/exclusive-first-read-snapper-by-brian-kimberling
Snapper will be published April 23.
March 5, 2013
February 24, 2013
February 14, 2013
"And then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes."
— James Joyce’s version of a stream of consciousness Valentine
February 6, 2013
“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.”
A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway
(Source: weezerfann)
February 4, 2013
"I can’t stand it to think my life is going so fast and I’m not really living it."
— The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway
(Source: headedwestboundanddown)
January 31, 2013
"
You discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating.
The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable:
first, restlessness. The second symptom, absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an illness- monotony, boredom, and death. Millions live like this, or die like this, without knowing. And then some shock treatment takes place- a person, a book, a song, and then it awakens them and saves them from death.
— Anaïs Nin
January 30, 2013
"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
—
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
January 28, 2013
"If a writer of prose knows enough of what he is writing about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them."
—
He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing.
- Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea.
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