"Have books ‘happened’ to you? Unless your answer to that question is ‘yes,’ I’m unsure how to talk to you."
— Haruki Murakami (via brokenheartedbabies)
(Source: nwbooklovers.org, via murakamistuff)
"I came away with pieces of you sticking to me; I am walking about, swimming, in an ocean of blood, your Andalusian blood, distilled and poisonous. I saw you as the mistress of your home, a Moor with a heavy face, a negress with a white body, eyes all over your skin, woman, woman, woman! I can’t see how I can go on living away from you…"
— Henry Miller in a letter to Anaïs Nin, August 1932 (via warmare)
(Source: ninefoldgoddess, via warmare)
(Henry to Anais): “The first day I saw you, I felt and believed you perverse, decadent. And apart from our personal experience, which is neither perverse nor decadent, I still feel in you an immense yielding, so that one feels there is no limit to you, to what you might be or do - that is decadence - an absence of boundary - a perverse yielding, limitless in experience.”
- Incest, p.149.
“I am out of the dark forest of caresses, of smells, yearning to roll and bathe again in the smell of his black hair, to cover my face with it, to feel his skin, to drop into warmth, to float on worship, to swim and breathe in adoration, to put my hand around our kiss as if it is a little flame I am protecting from the wind; a mouth changing, so withdrawn at first, now flowering, filling, turning outward, hurt, melted, opened, wet. Changed the currents between the eyes, the currents between the mouths. Touched so many layers of the being, with fingers, mouths, and words. At first the eyes, lanterns and stars, candles, jungle and heaven, hell and desire.
The mouth alone touches the womb. Clouds of dreams, mists of diamond and sulfer from the eyes, but the mouth alone touches the womb, the mouth stirs, moves, flowers, the lips open, and there flows the breath of life and breathlessness of desire. The shape of the mouth shapes the currents of the blood, stirs, lifts, dissolves. To bathe, roll, turn over dizzy in a bed of warmth — no wamth like two bodies — this is the current of life.”
- Incest, p294-5.
(Source: warmare)
"I dream, I kiss, I have orgasms, I get exalted, I leave the world, I float, I cook, I sew, I have nightmares, I follow a gigantic creative plan, I compose, decompose, improvise, I write in my head, I listen to all, I hear all that is said, I feel Spain, I am aware, I am everywhere, I burn with Gonzalo, I am open to wounds, open to love, I am rooted to my devotions, I carry an obsessional current of storytelling, I am writing my own story but I am never separate, cut off — never blind, deaf, absent. I hold on to the dream that makes life possible, to the creation which transfigures, to the God who sustains, to the crimes which give life, to the infidelities which make life possible."
— Nearer the Moon, p.176.
