--> The Literary Condition
spaceplasma:

"Now, for the first time in its billions of years of history, our planet is protected by far-seeing sentinels, able to anticipate danger from the distant future – a comet on a collision course, or global warming–and devise schemes for doing something about it. The planet has finally grown its own nervous system: us." 
- Daniel Dennett ( We Earth Neurons )

spaceplasma:

"Now, for the first time in its billions of years of history, our planet is protected by far-seeing sentinels, able to anticipate danger from the distant future – a comet on a collision course, or global warming–and devise schemes for doing something about it. The planet has finally grown its own nervous system: us."

- Daniel Dennett ( We Earth Neurons )

Die Gedankenfreiheit haben wir. Jetzt brauchen wir nur noch die Gedanken.
— Karl Kraus (via winter61)
Darin besteht die Liebe: Dass sich zwei Einsame beschützen und berühren und miteinander reden.
— Rainer Maria Rilke (via winter61)
catonhottinroof:

Piotr Stachiewicz (1858-1938)    Quo Vadis

catonhottinroof:

Piotr Stachiewicz (1858-1938)    Quo Vadis

What goes on inside is just too fast and huge and all interconnected for words to do more than barely sketch the outlines of at most one tiny little part of it at any given instant.
— David Foster Wallace, Oblivion (via splitterherzen)
You can’t measure the mutual affection of two human beings by the number of words they exchange.
— Milan Kundera (via observando)

Robert Doisneau, Paris, 1942

Robert Doisneau, Paris, 1942

The only regret I will have in dying is if it is not for love.
— Gabriel Garcia Marquez (1927-2014), Love in the Time of Cholera  (via livefromthenypl)
There is always something left to love.
— Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez (via drunk-on-books)
Nobody deserves your tears, but whoever deserves them will not make you cry.
— Gabriel Garcia Marquez (via recumbentibous)
I reflected how many satisfied, happy people there really are! What a suffocating force it is! You look at life: the insolence and idleness of the strong, the ignorance and brutishness of the weak, incredible poverty all about us, overcrowding, degeneration, drunkenness, hypocrisy, lying… Yet all is calm and stillness in the houses and in the streets; of the fifty thousand living in a town, there´s not one who would cry out, who would give vent to his indignation aloud. We see the people going to market for provisions, eating by day, sleeping by night, talking their silly nonsense, getting married, growing old, serenely escorting their dead to the cemetery; but we do not see and we do not hear those who suffer, and what is terrible in life goes on somewhere behind the scenes…Everything is so quiet and peaceful, and nothing protests but mute statistics: so many people gone out of their minds, so many gallons of vodka drunk, so many children dead from malnutrition… And this order of things is evidently necessary; evidently the happy man only feels at ease because the unhappy bear their burdens in silence, and without that silence happiness would be impossible.
— Anton Chekhov (via blackestdespondency)
Es blitzt ein Tropfen Morgentau im Strahl des Sonnenlichts; ein Tag kann eine Perle sein und ein Jahrhundert nichts.
— Gottfried Keller (via ingeniumeloquentiae)
Two people in love, alone, isolated from the world, that’s beautiful.
— Milan Kundera (via observando)
A head full of stars, just not in constellation yet.
— Elias Canetti (via kudou-kun)
We sometimes have a flash of understanding that amounts to the insight of genius, and yet it slowly withers, even in our hands - like a flower. The form remains, but the colours and the fragrance are gone.
Robert Musil, The Confusions of Young Törless (via satyrica)