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Quote by Friedrich Nietzsche

“The Thought of Death. It gives me a melancholy happiness to live in the midst of this confusion of streets, of necessities, of voices: how much enjoyment, impatience and desire, how much thirsty life and drunkenness of life comes to light here every moment! And yet it will soon be so still for all these shouting, lively, life- loving people! How everyone's shadow, his gloomy travelling companion stands behind him! It is always as in the last moment before the departure of an emigrant- ship: people have more than ever to say to one another, the hour presses, the ocean with its lonely silence waits impatiently behind all the noise-so greedy, so certain of its prey! And all, all, suppose that the past has been nothing, or a small matter, that the near future is everything: hence this haste, this crying, this self-deafening and self-overreaching! Everyone wants to be foremost in this future-and yet death and the stillness of death are the only things certain and common to all in this future! How strange that this sole thing that is certain and common to all, exercises almost no influence on men, and that they are the furthest from regarding themselves as the brotherhood of death! It makes me happy to see that men do not want to think at all of the idea of death! I would fain do something to make the idea of life to us to be more than friends in the sense of that sublime possibility. And so we will believe in our even a hundred times more worthy of their attention.”

Book:The Gay Science: With a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs

Work

The Gay Science: With a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs

A seminal text that delves into the nature of science, ethics, and the human condition, featuring poetic prelude and musical appendices more

Author

Friedrich Nietzsche

Friedrich Nietzsche was a German philosopher, cultural critic, poet, and writer whose works have had a profound impact on subsequent philosophy, literature, and thought. His ideas revolve around concepts such as the 'will to power', the 'Übermensch', and the 'eternal recurrence'. more

“من پري كوچك غمگيني را مي شناسم كه در اقيانوسي مسكن دارد و دلش را در يك ني لبك چوبين مي نوازد آرام،آرام پري كوچك غمگيني كه شب از يك بوسه مي ميرد و سحرگاه از يك بوسه به دنيا خواهد آمد”

Poem

Author:Forough Farrokhzad

“Very possibly this was the night my white-knight complex, as Solange put it, would get me killed. Someone had better write a poem about it. It was only fair.”

Poem Logan Drake

Book:Blood Feud

Source: Blood Feud

“Just Let them. If they want to choose something or someone over you, LET THEM. If they want to go weeks without talking to you, LET THEM. If they are okay with never seeing you, LET THEM. If they are okay with always putting themselves first, LET THEM. If they are showing you who they are and not what you perceived them to be, LET THEM. If they want to follow the crowd, LET THEM. If they want to judge or misunderstand you, LET THEM. If they act like they can live without you, LET THEM. If they want to walk out of your life and leave, hold the door open, AND LET THEM. Let them lose you. You were never theirs, because you were always your own. So let them.”

Poem

Author:Cassie Phillips

“DAISIES It is possible, I suppose that sometime we will learn everything there is to learn: what the world is, for example, and what it means. I think this as I am crossing from one field to another, in summer, and the mockingbird is mocking me, as one who either knows enough already or knows enough to be perfectly content not knowing. Song being born of quest he knows this: he must turn silent were he suddenly assaulted with answers. Instead oh hear his wild, caustic, tender warbling ceaselessly unanswered. At my feet the white-petalled daisies display the small suns of their center piece, their -- if you don't mind my saying so -- their hearts. Of course I could be wrong, perhaps their hearts are pale and narrow and hidden in the roots. What do I know? But this: it is heaven itself to take what is given, to see what is plain; what the sun lights up willingly; for example -- I think this as I reach down, not to pick but merely to touch -- the suitability of the field for the daisies, and the daisies for the field.”

Poem