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imbued with the light |
January 01 2010 @ 02:03AM
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The great fact was the land itself, which seemed to overwhelm the little beginnings of human society that struggled in its sombre wastes. It was from facing this vast hardness that the boy's mouth had become so bitter; because he felt that men were too weak to make any mark here, that the land wanted to be let alone, to preserve its own fierce strength, its peculiar, savage kind of beauty, its uninterrupted mournfulness. Freedom so often means that one isn't needed anywhere. Here you are an individual, you have a background of your own, you would be missed. But off there in the cities there are thousands of rolling stones like me. We are all alike; we have no ties, we know nobody, we own nothing. When one of us dies, they scarcely know where to bury him... We have no house, no place, no people of our own. We live in the streets, in the parks, in the theatres. We sit in restaurants and concert halls and look about at the hundreds of our own kind and shudder. Perhaps I am like Carrie Jensen, the sister of one of my hired men. She had never been out of the cornfields, and a few years ago she got despondent and said life was just the same thing over and over, and she didn't see the use of it. After she had tried to kill herself once or twice, her folks got worried and sent her over to Iowa to visit some relations. Ever since she's come back she's been perfectly cheerful, and she says she's contented to live and work in a world that's so big and interesting. She said that anything as big as the bridges over the Platte and the Missouri reconciled her. And it's what goes on in the world that reconciles me. I kept as still as I could. Nothing happened. I did not expect anything to happen. I was something that lay under the sun and felt it, like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more. I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep.
[willa cather]
Public journal. More or less a stream of photos, and the occasional book excerpt.
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November 27 2009 @ 06:48AM
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I wish more people loved cold mountain - I dont hear alot about it by word of mouth but I think it is one of the best novels of our time. I am on my fourth re-read in the last year since I discovered it.
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November 27 2009 @ 06:43AM
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I have some harry potter bracelets in the shop & some crushed velvet pants/leggings & a corset back dress.
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2 questions, everyone answer! |
November 24 2009 @ 10:31PM
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1) Favorite song at the moment!
Dethklok/awaken
2) Book you're reading at the moment!
Cold mountain by charles frazier
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November 24 2009 @ 08:54PM
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I usually hate covers if I love the original, and I fucking love billy idol, but I admit I almost like the Dope cover more - and this comes form soemone who hates dope and that general genre of rock/metal.
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