Humans are the only animals that have children on purpose, keep in touch (or don’t), care about birthdays, waste and lose time, brush their teeth, feel nostalgia, scrub stains, have religions and political parties and laws, wear keepsakes, apologize years after an offense, whisper, fear themselves, interpret dreams, hide their genitalia, shave, bury time capsules, and can choose not to eat something for reasons of conscience. The justifications for eating animals and for not eating them are often identical: we are not them.
—jonathan safran foer, eating animals.
[Side note: So many of my friends no longer eat meat. Others ignore the plant/animal binary and eat whatever tastes tremendous (ie “I’m a TREMENDETARIAN”). I guess I’m a pescatarian, though given how faithful I am a more fitting label would be LAPSE-ATERIAN.
But this book? This book is killing me. I won’t be surprised if I turn vegan by the end of it.]
true true.. not only about _eating animals, but also for the way most humans treat other creatures, or the environment in general — "it is just there to serve us"; instead of having respect for all other forms of being.
“Draw and paint everyday. Create a unique body of work. Study what is important and make your art about the most important thing. Read Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet. Honor your visions by noting them whenever you have them. Always carry a sketchbook and enter in it daily. Create a website for your work and print a postcard and a business card and give them out. Write an artist’s statement — over and over again. Learn to talk about your work so that it inspires others. Go to galleries and meet other artists. A certain amount of solitude is necessary but don’t be isolated. Study the masters. Immerse yourself and become obsessed with your art and art in general.”—Alex Grey , advice for emerging artists (via tobia) (via adeldelion) (via anderalexander) (via unicornology)
Samuel Johnson - ‘Iam moriturus’ (I who am about to die) Lord Byron - ‘Come, come, no weakness; let’s be a man to the last!’ Emily Dickinson - ‘I must go in, the fog is rising’ Robert Louis Stevenson - ‘What’s that? Do I look strange?’ Anton Chekhov - ‘It’s a long time since I drank champagne’ Mark Twain - ‘Death, the only immortal, who treats us alike, whose peace and refuge are for all. The soiled and the pure, the rich and the poor, the loved and the unloved’ Leo Tolstoy - ‘We all reveal … our manifestations … This manifestation is over … That’s all’ Franz Kafka - ‘Dearest Max, my last request: Everything I leave behind me … in the way of diaries, manuscripts, letters (my own and others’), sketches, and so on, (is) to be burned unread’ Virginia Woolf - ‘I feel certain that I’m going mad again …’ James Joyce - ‘Does nobody understand?’