Walking on these streets, until the night falls, my life feels to me like the life they have. By day they’re full of meaningless activity; by night, they’re full of meaningless lack of it. By day I am nothing, and by night I am I. There is no difference between me and these streets, save they being streets and I a soul, which perhaps is irrelevant when we consider the essence of things.
Fernando Pessoa, from A Factless Autobiography in The Book of Disquiet
Nothing had ever obliged him to do anything. He had spent his childhood alone. He never joined any group. He never pursued a course of study. He never belonged to a crowd. The circumstances of his life were marked by that strange but rather common phenomenon – perhaps, in fact, it’s true for all lives – of being tailored to the image and likeness of his instincts, which tended towards inertia and withdrawal.
Fernando Pessoa, from the Preface of The Book of Disquiet
My eyes already touch the sunny hill.
going far beyond the road I have begun,
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has an inner light, even from a distance-

and changes us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
we already are; a gesture waves us on
answering our own wave…
but what we feel is the wind in our faces.
The Walk, 1924, Rainer Maria Rilke
When I see a couple of kids
And guess he’s fucking her and she’s
Taking pills or wearing a diaphragm,
I know this is paradise

Everyone old has dreamed of all their lives—
Bonds and gestures pushed to one side
Like an outdated combine harvester,
And everyone young going down the long slide

To happiness, endlessly. I wonder if
Anyone looked at me, forty years back,
And thought, That’ll be the life;
No God any more, or sweating in the dark

About hell and that, or having to hide
What you think of the priest. He
And his lot will all go down the long slide
Like free bloody birds. And immediately

Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.

High Windows, Philip Larkin
My son. You may not remember me. I am your father. This message is coming to you either from beyond the grave, or because I am in the grip of insanity. The purpose of these DVDs is to educate and guide you through life in my absence. I will begin with our shared history. The Donaghy’s originally come from Ireland’s little-known County Steve, where historically we were whiskey testers and goblins. I was raised in Sadchester, Massachusetts. I won the Amory Blaine Handsomeness scholarship to Princeton, and then attended Harvard Business School where I was voted “Most.” I once hit a stand up triple off Fidel Castro. I was the first person ever to say “I need a vacation from this vacation.” The song “You’re So Vain” was in fact written by me. In other words I have lived. In living I have learned. And now I want to impart that knowledge to you. I will begin with the basics. You are hiking in the Japanese highlands. A pair of snow leopards is stalking you and the blade of your katana is frosted into it’s scabbard…
— Jack Donaghy, 30 Rock, Season 5 (via introspectivepoet)

salenagodden:

“Common sense says go home and forget it, no money coming in. Common sense always speaks too late. Common sense is the guy who tells you you ought to have had your brakes relined last week before you smashed a front end this week. Common sense is the Monday morning quarterback who could have won the ball game if he had been on the team. But he never is. He’s high up in the stands with a flask on his hip. Common sense is the little man in a gray suit who never makes a mistake in addition. But it’s always somebody else’s money he’s adding up.” love Raymond Chandler

Platforme of Bagdat, from The Six Voyages of John Baptista Tavernier, 1670
A remarkable account of travel through 17th century Asia by a French diamond merchant who covered by his own account, 180,000 miles over the course of forty years and six voyages through Turkey, Persia and the East-Indies. Though best known for the discovery of the 118-carat blue diamond that he subsequently sold to Louis XIV of France in 1668, (it was stolen in 1792 and re-emerged in London as The Hope Diamond), his writings show that he was a keen observer of his time as well as a remarkable cultural anthropologist. 

Platforme of Bagdat, from The Six Voyages of John Baptista Tavernier, 1670

A remarkable account of travel through 17th century Asia by a French diamond merchant who covered by his own account, 180,000 miles over the course of forty years and six voyages through Turkey, Persia and the East-Indies. Though best known for the discovery of the 118-carat blue diamond that he subsequently sold to Louis XIV of France in 1668, (it was stolen in 1792 and re-emerged in London as The Hope Diamond), his writings show that he was a keen observer of his time as well as a remarkable cultural anthropologist. 

Perfect little pocket introduction to the world of Daido Moriyama, all noir mood and jazzy soundtrack as it follows him prowling the city. We learn photography isn’t the most charming or enjoyable activity for him, what it is, though, is seductive, something he can’t help but dorooted in the idea of the city as sexual, a siren calling him, a circuit-board of interconnecting desires. Seduced from an early age by the freedom of wandering, a stranger in a new town, unattached but engaged in an intimate way few others are (the intimacy of details, gestures, private looks, neon signs, advertising) he sensed everything about us is desire, either physical or projected, sublimated or hidden in plain view. He describes himself as a stray dog, an alley cat, but equally he could be described as a cross between a flaneur and a hunter. The pleasure of walking with no defined destination, the pleasure of attention and exploration, aligned to the hunter’s eye for prey, for capturing things.