#mm

If you don't write when you don't have time for it, you won't write when you do have time for it. ↗

— Katerina Stoykova Klemer

#human-nature #motivation #time #time-management #writing

Children, awkward, isolate, their bodies crammed to bursting with caffein and sugar and pop music and cologne and perfume and hairgel and pimple cream and growth hormone-treated hamburger meat and premature sex drives and costly, fleeting, violent sublimations. It's all part of the conspiracy . . . all of it trying to convince them that they're here to be trained for lives of adventure and glamor and heroism, when in fact they're here only to be trained for more of the same, for lives of plunking in the quarters, paying a premium for the never-ending series of shabby fantasies to come, the whole lifelong laser light show of glamorous degradation and habitual novelty and fun-loving murder and global isolation. ↗

— Alex Shakar

#commerce #love

Early Summer, loveliest season, The world is being colored in. While daylight lasts on the horizon, Sudden, throaty blackbirds sing. The dusty-colored cuckoo cuckoos. "Welcome, summer" is what he says. Winter's unimaginable. The wood's a wickerwork of boughs. Summer means the river's shallow, Thirsty horses nose the pools. Long heather spreads out on bog pillows. White bog cotton droops in bloom. Swallows swerve and flicker up. Music starts behind the mountain. There's moss and a lush growth underfoot. Spongy marshland glugs and stutters. Bog banks shine like ravens' wings. The cuckoo keeps on calling welcome. The speckled fish jumps; and the strong Swift warrior is up and running. A little, jumpy, chirpy fellow Hits the highest note there is; The lark sings out his clear tidings. Summer, shimmer, perfect days. ↗

— Marie Heaney

#fionn-mac-cumhaill #folklore #ireland #poetry #summer

If the music is amazing, you can get away with anything. ↗

— Brian Logan Dales

#advice #lyrics #music #musician #the-summer-set

Is the music broke, Mommy? ↗

— Edward M. Wolfe

#apocalyptic #colorado #denver #edward-wolfe #kids

Ludwig’s enormous, awe-inspiring genius, his productivity, his prescient modernism were all contained in music. Beside that, the letters to the Immortal Beloved looked no more impressive to her than bathroom stall graffiti: L.V.B. luvs his I.B. Wishes she wuz here. ↗

— Magnus Flyte

#inspirational

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#fall #nature #seasons #summer #time

One of the strongest natural proofs of the folly of hereditary right in kings, is, that nature disapproves it, otherwise, she would not so frequently turn it into ridicule by giving mankind an ass for a lion. ↗

— Thomas Paine

#government #monarchy #wit #nature

But then fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you. ↗

— Stephen King

#fall #seasons #summer #autumn

She wore tight corsets to give her a teeny waist - I helped her lace them up - but they had the effect of causing her to faint. Mom called it the vapors and said it was a sign of her high breeding and delicate nature. I thought it was a sign that the corset made it hard to breathe. ↗

— Jeannette Walls

#common-sense #fashion #nonsense #victorian-era #nature