February 2012
11 posts
January 2012
10 posts
2 tags
2 tags
"I am a lousy copywriter, but I am a good... →
David Ogilvy on his copywriting process. Time magazine called him “the most sought-after wizard in today’s advertising industry” in the early-’60s; his name, and that of his agency, have been mentioned more than once in Mad Men for good reason.
3 tags
“There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical...”
– John Steinbeck, 1958, in a letter to his eldest son
December 2011
4 posts
“Artists don’t get down to work until the pain of working is exceeded by...”
– Stephen DeStaebler
“That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings...”
– F. Scott Fitzgerald
3 tags
“Likewise, we may acquire concepts by our perceptual experience of physical objects. But we would be mistaken if we thought that the concepts that we grasp were on the same level as the things we perceive.”
November 2011
10 posts
3 tags
3 tags
“Human subtlety will never devise an invention more beautiful, more simple or...”
– Leonardo da Vinci
“Over a sea of grief Scarlet died
above her dying mind were fossilfied memory...”
– Death Of A Shade Of A Hue, by Of Montreal
3 tags
“People disappear when they die. Their voice, their laughter, the warmth of their...”
– Diane Setterfield
October 2011
14 posts
2 tags
Sonnet XVII: Love
by Pablo Neruda
I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom and carries hidden within itself the light of those flowers, and thanks to your love, darkly in my body lives the dense...
2 tags
Poetry
by Pablo Neruda
And it was at that age…Poetry arrived in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don’t know how or when, no, they were not voices, they were not words, nor silence, but from a street I was summoned, from the branches of night, abruptly from the others, among violent fires or returning alone, there I was...
2 tags
Love
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring. I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands; how did your lips feel on mine? Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks, the white statues that have neither voice nor sight. I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten ...
2 tags
2 tags
1 tag
September 2011
14 posts
3 tags
