January 2011
35 posts
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Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to...
– Anais Nin
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Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita, Chapter 25;
Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze. Hair: brown. Lips: scarlet. Age: five thousand three hundred days. Profession: none, or "starlet" Where are you hiding, Dolores Haze? Why are you hiding, darling? (I Talk in a daze, I walk in a maze I cannot get out, said the starling). Where are you riding, Dolores Haze? What make is the magic carpet? Is a Cream Cougar the present craze? And where are you parked, my...
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To give life you must take life,
and as our grief falls flat and hollow
upon...
– Charles Bukowski
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