#ata

The real catastrophes are always different-unimaginable, unprepared for, unknown ↗

— Karen Thompson Walker

#age

They stand beside a grave. Hermann sprinkles upon it a powder, which falls in sparkles of light from his fingers. The earth begins to heave; and presently, as a volcano casts up its ashes, the grave empties itself. Slowly and slowly, like the rippling waves of a becalmed ocean, it rises to the surface, divides, and falls in crumbling heaps on either side. Then there ascends the venerable figure of an aged man, clothed in robes of purple and scarlet, the ensigns of senatorial dignity. At the same moment, the spectre arm, by wondrous motion of its own, tears itself aloft, and becomes a dimly gleaming torch; each livid finger sending forth pale red dusky flames, which fling a horrid glare upon the cadaverous features of the phantom. ("The Forsaken Of God") ↗

— William Mudford

#black-magick #grave #hand-of-glory #incantation #magick

I see her body as an arousing work of architecture. A sky-scraping building that I wouldn’t mind laying over a mountain to inject my whale-sized shank through its front entrance, knocking the doorman out of the way and flooding the lobby once I am finished with her. ↗

— Carlton Mellick III

#satan-burger #architecture

Mi-a povestit, mie, ca unui mare, frica lui. A zis că pe-acolo pe unde fusese dus, în Rusia, în lagăr, pe front, din nou în lagăr în România, ca prizonier, apoi cu refugiul şi bombardamentele, cunoscuse frica. Dar era numai frica lui. Că frica de moartea ta nu e cu adevărat frică - tot nu depinde de tine moartea ori nemoartea ta. Frica cea mare, adevărată, a zis tata, e cea pentru alţii: nevastă, copii. Ştii că de tine a depins să-i fereşti de pericol şi n-ai făcut-o. Frica cea mare nu e moartea ta, e viaţa pe care or s-o îndure ai tăi, din pricina ta. ↗

— Paul Goma

#tata #art

It's the only dish I serve my craziness for color in. ↗

— Josef Albers

#artists #biography #josef-albers #natasha-wing #art

Take the situation of a scientist solving a problem, where he has certain data, which call for certain responses. Some of this set of data call for his applying such and such a law, while others call for another law. ↗

— George Herbert Mead

#applying #call #certain #data #his

Even with all their threats of eternal damnation and soul roasting, Christian missionaries have run across some who were not so quick to swallow their drivel. Pleasure and pain, like beauty, are in the eye of the beholder. So, when missionaries ventured to Alaska and warned the Eskimos of the horrors of Hell and the blazing lake of fire awaiting transgressors, they eagerly asked: "How do we get there?"! ↗

— Anton Szandor LaVey

#eskimos #hell #religion #satanic-bible #beauty

I remember something." "Yes?" "You told me once that you were going to break my heart." He rolls over to face her. "Yes," he says. "I may once have said something like that." "What happened?" His beautiful eyes are even more hypnotic up close. "You broke mine. ↗

— Nenia Campbell

#endgame #nenia-campbell #vol #beauty

¿Pero cuánto durará esta belleza? A las mujeres nos entristece pensar en eso ↗

— Yasunari Kawabata

#beauty

There were many beautiful vipers in those days and she was one of them. ("Eveline's Visitant") ↗

— Mary Elizabeth Braddon

#femme-fatale #beauty