Lauren Tigges > Lauren's Quotes

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  • #1
    Edvard Munch
    “I was walking along a path with two friends – the sun was setting – suddenly the sky turned blood red – I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence – there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city – my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety – and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature.”
    Edvard Munch

  • #2
    Edvard Munch
    “I felt as if there were invisible threads connecting us - I felt the invisible strands of her hair still winding around me - and thus as she disappeared completely beyond the sea - I still felt it, felt the pain where my heart was bleeding - because the threads could not be severed.”
    Edvard Munch

  • #3
    Edvard Munch
    “Your face encompasses the beauty of the whole earth. Your lips, as red as ripening fruit, gently part as if in pain. It is the smile of a corpse. Now the hand of death touches life. The chain is forged that links the thousand families that are dead to the thousand generations to come.”
    Edvard Munch

  • #4
    Edvard Munch
    “My whole life has been spent walking by the side of a bottomless chasm, jumping from stone to stone. Sometimes I try to leave my narrow path and join the swirling mainstream of life, but I always find myself drawn inexorably back towards the chasm's edge, and there I shall walk until the day I finally fall into the abyss.”
    Edvard Munch

  • #5
    Edvard Munch
    “Human fates are like planets

    Like a star that emerges
    from the dark –
    and meets another star –
    shines for a second before disappearing again
    into the dark – [it is] in this way – in this way
    a man and a woman meet – glide towards
    one another are illuminated in love’s
    flames – to then disappear
    in their separate directions –
    Only a few meet in a
    single large blaze – where they both
    can be fully united”
    Edvard Munch

  • #6
    Edvard Munch
    “The sea – it is as incomprehensible as existence – it is incomprehensible as death – as eternal as longing.”
    Edvard Munch

  • #7
    Alysha Speer
    “Life is painful and messed up. It gets complicated at the worst of times, and sometimes you have no idea where to go or what to do. Lots of times people just let themselves get lost, dropping into a wide open, huge abyss. But that's why we have to keep trying. We have to push through all that hurts us, work past all our memories that are haunting us. Sometimes the things that hurt us are the things that make us strongest. A life without experience, in my opinion, is no life at all. And that's why I tell everyone that, even when it hurts, never stop yourself from living.”
    Alysha Speer

  • #8
    Thomas Henry Huxley
    “Sit down before fact as a little child, be prepared to give up every preconceived notion, follow humbly wherever and to whatever abysses nature leads, or you shall learn nothing. I have only begun to learn content and peace of mind since I have resolved at all risks to do this.”
    Thomas Huxley, Life and Letters of Thomas Henry Huxley — Volume 1

  • #9
    Friedrich Nietzsche
    “When you stare into the abyss the abyss stares back at you.”
    Friedrich Nietzsche, Фридрих Ницше

  • #10
    Aleister Crowley
    “I've often thought that there isn't any "I" at all; that we are simply the means of expression of something else; that when we think we are ourselves, we are simply the victims of a delusion.”
    Aleister Crowley, Diary of a Drug Fiend

  • #11
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness. Although the two are identical twins, man, as a rule, views the prenatal abyss with more calm than the one he is heading for.”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Speak, Memory

  • #12
    Fyodor Dostoevsky
    “Because I'm a Karamazov. Because when I fall into the abyss, I go straight into it, head down and heels up, and I'm even pleased that I'm falling in just such a humiliating position, and for me I find it beautiful.”
    Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

  • #13
    Sanober  Khan
    “for we all have
    our own

    twilights
    and mists
    and abysses

    to return to.”
    Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos

  • #14
    Roberto Bolaño
    “While we are looking for the antidote or the medicine to cure us, that is, the 'new', which can only be found by plunging deep into the Unknown, we have to go on exploring sex, books, and travel, although we know that they lead us to the abyss, which, as it happens, is the only place where the antidote can be found.”
    Roberto Bolano(Literature+Illness=Illness)

  • #15
    Thomas Ligotti
    “In the recumbence of depression, your information-gathering system collates its intelligence and reports to you these facts: (1) there is nothing to do; (2) there is nowhere to go; (3) there is nothing to be; (4) there is no one to know. Without meaning-charged emotions keeping your brain on the straight and narrow, you would lose your balance and fall into an abyss of lucidity. And for a conscious being, lucidity is a cocktail without ingredients, a crystal clear concoction that will leave you hung over with reality. In perfect knowledge there is only perfect nothingness, which is perfectly painful if what you want is meaning in your life.”
    Thomas Ligotti

  • #16
    Kamand Kojouri
    “I open my eyes.
    I want to know:
    what is in the abyss of a kiss?
    Are stars born in these black caves
    that house bated breaths and unspoken words?
    Do our souls crawl on these tender cheeks
    to greet one another by ivory gates?
    What happens when we kiss?
    Where do you go?
    Don’t tell me.
    For I have lost my desire to know.
    Kiss me
    so that I forget myself.
    I close my eyes
    and fall in the abyss.”
    Kamand Kojouri

  • #17
    Iain Banks
    “It was as if some magnetic repulsion, which before had kept our two carriages from meeting and passing, had now been reversed, and so sucked me inexorably forward, drawing me towards something my heart made clear I feared - or should fear - utterly, in the way some people are fatally attracted towards an abyss while standing on its very edge.”
    Iain Banks, The Bridge
    tags: abyss

  • #18
    Andrew Ashling
    “Deal with all this, live with myself, you mean? I honestly don't know. I stand often enough at the abyss of my soul, asking that same question, looking down into the dark crevices where the black monsters dwell on the bottom. They gaze up at me, and I look them in the eyes. “This also you are,” they say, and I almost fall into the void.”
    “And then?”
    Anaxantis shrugged.
    “And then? I turn around and go do what needs to be done. What else is there?”
    Andrew Ashling, The Invisible Chains - Part 1: Bonds of Hate

  • #19
    Apostolos Doxiadis
    “Put a man on the brink of the abyss and - in the unlikely event that she doesn't fall into it - he will become a mystic or a madman... Which is probably the same thing!”
    Apostolos Doxiadis, Logicomix: An Epic Search for Truth

  • #20
    Joë Bousquet
    “I gazed upon the earth and saw that a body, in its tender faithlessness, had located it in the sky. A splendid scarf of blood, looming above the abyss.”
    Joe Bousquet

  • #21
    Charlotte Brontë
    “And as for the vague something --- was it a sinister or a sorrowful, a designing or a desponding expression? --- that opened upon a careful observer, now and then, in his eye, and closed again before one could fathom the strange depth partially disclosed; that something which used to make me fear and shrink, as if I had been wandering amongst volcanic-looking hills, and had suddenly felt the ground quiver, and seen it gape: that something, I, at intervals, beheld still; and with throbbing heart, but not with palsied nerves. Instead of wishing to shun, I longed only to dare --- to divine it; and I thought Miss Ingram happy, because one day she might look into the abyss at her leisure, explore its secrets and analyse their nature.”
    Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

  • #22
    Anita Brookner
    “[…] as if the next thing must quickly come along to occupy her, or the abyss might open. What abyss? The abyss that waits for all of us, when all our actions seem futile, when the ability to fill the day seems stalled, and the waiting takes on an edge of dread. ”
    Anita Brookner, Latecomers

  • #23
    “Not a bad thing to know something about darkness. You can’t talk about light without some knowledge of darkness. Like your buddy Nietzsche said, 'He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.' Keep that in mind.”
    Kazuki Kaneshiro, Go

  • #24
    Laura Kreitzer
    “There was an image in my mind—an expectation of what it would be like when I finally gave myself fully to a man. It wasn’t like this. It was always at night with candles flickering lazily, music filling the air with a sexy melody, and maybe a bubble bath. But no. It was infinitely better, and there was no froo froo, stereotypical scene that played out.
    It was incredible.
    Brilliant.
    Amazing.
    Indescribable, really. Like all the planets in the galaxy aligned for a perfect moment in time. As if this was the beginning of time. From now until the rest of eternity, everything finally had meaning.”
    Laura Kreitzer, Abyss

  • #25
    Laura Kreitzer
    “A growing heat, like a million blazing suns all focused on me, lit my insides. It felt like I was being cooked in the Gabriella Roast Cooker, me spinning around-and-around to heat my flesh evenly. For some reason I was having trouble comprehending the sudden change in my revolving world as I swelled with a horrible, billowing fire.”
    Laura Kreitzer, Abyss

  • #26
    Michael F Simpson
    “Glass always drew my eyes, or my mind. That reflection — the mirror, and the Other Body inside it. I wanted to turn off my mind but it was impossible. So many terrible, monstrous things buzzed around inside of it like electric knife blades, cutting, cutting, cutting.”
    Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

  • #27
    Michael F Simpson
    “I looked around again, quickly left, quickly right. There was someone around me. Something. In the shop windows, faint and ghostly faces gazing out. Directly at me no matter which side of the empty space I looked upon. Once again the darkness and the impossible distance obstructed my ability to discern any detailed features, leaving me alone with only vague ideas of the inhuman human form.”
    Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

  • #28
    Ayn Rand
    “The people had come to witness a sensational case, to see celebrities, to get material for conversation, to be seen, to kill time. They would return to unwanted jobs, unloved families, unchosen friends, to drawing rooms, evening clothes, cocktail glasses and movies, to unadmitted pain, murdered hope, desire left unreached, left hanging silently over a path on which no step was taken, to days of effort not to think, not to say, to forget and give in and give up. But each of them had known some unforgotten moment-a morning when nothing had happened, a piece of music heard suddenly and never heard in the same way again, a stranger's face seen in a bus-a moment when each had known a different sense of living. And each remembered other moments, on a sleepless night, on an afternoon of steady rain, in a church, in an empty street at sunset, when each had wondered why there was so much suffering and ugliness in the world. They had not tried to find the answer and they had gone on living as if no answer was necessary. But each had known a moment when, in lonely, naked honesty, he had felt the need of an answer.”
    Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

  • #29
    Judith Lewis Herman
    “The ORDINARY RESPONSE TO ATROCITIES is to banish them from consciousness. Certain violations of the social compact are too terrible to utter aloud: this is the meaning of the word unspeakable.

    Atrocities, however, refuse to be buried. Equally as powerful as the desire to deny atrocities is the conviction that denial does not work. Folk wisdom is filled with ghosts who refuse to rest in their graves until their stories are told. Murder will out. Remembering and telling the truth about terrible events are prerequisites both for the restoration of the social order and for the healing of individual victims.

    The conflict between the will to deny horrible events and the will to proclaim them aloud is the central dialectic of psychological trauma. People who have survived atrocities often tell their stories in a highly emotional, contradictory, and fragmented manner that undermines their credibility and thereby serves the twin imperatives of truth-telling and secrecy. When the truth is finally recognized, survivors can begin their recovery. But far too often secrecy prevails, and the story of the traumatic event surfaces not as a verbal narrative but as a symptom.

    The psychological distress symptoms of traumatized people simultaneously call attention to the existence of an unspeakable secret and deflect attention from it. This is most apparent in the way traumatized people alternate between feeling numb and reliving the event. The dialectic of trauma gives rise to complicated, sometimes uncanny alterations of consciousness, which George Orwell, one of the committed truth-tellers of our century, called "doublethink," and which mental health professionals, searching for calm, precise language, call "dissociation." It results in protean, dramatic, and often bizarre symptoms of hysteria which Freud recognized a century ago as disguised communications about sexual abuse in childhood. . . .”
    Judith Lewis Herman, Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence - From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror

  • #30
    “Oh, he did look like a deity – the perfect balance of danger and charm, he was at the same time fascinating and inaccessible, distant because of his demonstrated flawlessness, and possessing such strength of character that he was dismaying and at the same time utterly attractive in an enticing and forbidden way.”
    Simona Panova, Nightmarish Sacrifice



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