parasitic

The Fabulous Baker Boys (1989)

Side by side, they were very much alike, in similarity less of lineament than of manner and bearing, a correspondence of gesture which bounced and echoed between them so that a blink seemed to reverberate, moments later, in a twitch of the other’s eyelid. Their eyes were the same color of gray, intelligent and calm.

He had those fawn-like eyes, you know, like the ones you see peeking out from tall grass? The ones that remind you of summer, the way the cicadas buzz and the way swarms of fireflies illuminate the night like mobile, flickering constellations? They’d light up like car lights on the Fourth of July, flashing dangerously across dirt roads in search of a youth and an eternity that might’ve existed fifty years ago, but not now. They were the summers I’d never live to see, a brutal bombardment of sunshine and bruises that might have happened, but for some reason didn’t, a certain summer one second and another the next, so different from each other and so numerous that there were more in those eyes than anyone could experience in ten, or ten thousand, lifetimes. That Bambi-eyed boy—he’d lasted only as long as the summers his irises had created.

understand that it is fiction and I do not condone the wrong actions that sometimes are written out on my blog for in-character purposes.

Anne Carson, from The Beauty of the Husband; “Sad Severe Tango Dance Of Love And Death…,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

George Sand, from a letter to Gustave Flaubert featured in The George Sand & Gustave Flaubert Letters (via violentwavesofemotion)