March 30, 1927 Journals Of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]

I do not know the name of the feeling that I have for you. But it is a special tenderness, something I have never felt until now, not for anyone.

— Gustave Flaubert in correspondence with George Sand; Croisset, 12 November 1866, Monday night, from Selected Letters

Glass Sculpture By Hennie Elzinga.

Robert Eggers, from the original Nosferatsu script (2016)

Text ID: I have sought a creature from the depths. An Eve that remembers her Eden. You are such a one.

[She] looked as if she had been carved out of a single pearl.

Angela Carter, "The Courtship of Mr. Lyon" from The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories.

Freud said that we endlessly repeat past hurts, forever re-enacting the same patterns in a futile attempt to patch the un-healable wound. This, more than anything, is the terror of the personal, digital archive: not that it reveals some awful act from the past, some old self that no longer stands for us, but that it reminds us that who we are is in fact a repetition, a cycle, a circular relation of multiple selves to multiple injuries. It’s the self as a bundle of trauma, forever acting out the same tropes in the hopes that we might one day change.

Navneet Alang, "Terror of the Archive"

C.G. Jung, from The Red Book: Liber Novus

Text ID: He whose desire turns away from outer things, reaches the place of the soul. If he does not find the soul, the horror of emptiness will overcome him, and fear will drive him with a whip lashing time and again in a desperate endeavor and a blind desire for the hollow things of the world. He becomes a fool through his endless desire, and forgets the way of his soul, never to find her again. He will run after all things, and will seize hold of them, but he will not find his soul, since he would find her only in himself.

Nikos Kazantzakis, from a letter featured in The Selected Letters of Nikos Kazantzakis

I love him in the way you love a lighthouse

From a distance

Not expecting warmth

But grateful for the shape of his light

I wrote him into my days

The echo of a soul lesson coming back around

I will meet him in the Center of a life

I already started to build without him

touch me like a memory Mark English, Laura Makabresku, Edvard Munch, Alex Venezia, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Egon Schiele, Peter Wever, Anne Magill

Michael Bazzett, from "Inside the Trojan Horse", The Echo-Chamber: Poems [transcript in ALT]