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Dev Jones
https://www.goodreads.com/deverius
“There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal. I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge—even wisdom. Like art.
—Toni Morrison, “No Place for Self-Pity, No Room for Fear,” The Nation, 23 Mar. 2015”
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—Toni Morrison, “No Place for Self-Pity, No Room for Fear,” The Nation, 23 Mar. 2015”
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“She didn't hear anything except a muted fuzzy silence. It was the first time in days and days she hadn't heard the ocean and the rain and the wind. She closed her eyes. Quiet. That would have been enough. For the scientist to have given her this minute of peace would have been enough. Then she heard a coo. Another longer coo, sliding from high to low. Oh, it was saying. Oh. Is it you? In answer came more ghostly, plaintive calls. The dolphins sang to each other. The songs pierced her chest like hot sticks, each call sharper than the last. She hoped Doug could hear them. She began to cry.”
― Life #6
― Life #6
“Before you descend into the Underworld, you must go to Santa Monica.”
― The Lightning Thief
― The Lightning Thief
“The unconscious is not a demoniacal monster, but a natural entity which, as far as moral sense, aesthetic taste, and intellectual judgement go, is completely neutral. It only becomes dangerous when our conscious attitude to it is hopelessly wrong. To the degree that we repress it, its danger increases. But the moment the patient begins to assimilate contents that were previously unconscious, its danger diminishes. The dissociation of personality, the anxious division of the day-time and the night-time sides of the psyche, cease with progressive assimilation.”
― The Essential Jung: Selected Writings
― The Essential Jung: Selected Writings
“All these years I was miserable because I was the one who had been dumped, left, thrown over for a city and a drug he couldn't resist. I remembered his face clearly, his nostrils flared and his lips in a sneer. "Go," he had said, "I don't want you here. Go back to school or whatever. Go now." I didn't remember the pirouettes or the swing or the Chinese waiter, but I clearly remembered his disgust. For thirty years I had wiggled the loose tooth of his disdain. For thirty years I had berated myself for not staying and putting up with it--trying to help him even though he was done with me. And for thirty years I knew I was the one whose heart was broken. I had only that minuscule speck of comfort. I had loved him more than he had loved me. It was my only talent. What would it mean if all these years I'd gotten it wrong?”
― Life #6
― Life #6
Dev’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Dev’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
487 books
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91 friends
473 books
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4 friends
62 books
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3 friends
3 books
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2 friends
2,095 books
|
5,405 friends
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