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Nan Goldin, Käthe in the tub, West Berlin, 1984

but love is the sky and i am for you just so long and long enough

When the sun is too bright for our eyes, we'll come home

When people look at my pictures I want them to feel the way they do when they want to read a line of a poem twice.

LIFE, Robert Frank, 26 November 1951

With the desire to be loved, to be held close to the other shape; to put off the veil of darkness and see burning eyes.

The Moment: Summer's Night, Virginia Woolf

The day was very hot. After heat, the surface of the body is opened, as if all the pores were open and everything lay exposed, not sealed and contracted, as in cold weather. The air wafts cold on the skin under one's clothes. The soles of the feet expand in slippers after walking on hard roads. Then the sense of the light sinking back into darkness seems to be gently putting out with a damp sponge the colour in one's own eyes. Then the leaves shiver now and again, as if a ripple of irrestible sensation ran through them, as a horse suddenly ripples its skin.

The Moment: Summer's Night, Virginia Woolf

É na obra de Cézanne que encontra a chave clarificadora dos périplos insatisfeitos pelo Louvre que tanta ansiedade lhe causara: "Andava às voltas, deambulava, à procura da chave para sair de toda essa pintura que me desorientava, me angustiava. E depois achei. Havia ao alto, mesmo na ponta do Louvre, como se fosse o fim de qualquer coisa, uma salinha com os impressionistas. Na parede ao fundo três Cézanne: Paysage, a grande Nature morte aux oranges e, entre eles, Les joueurs de cartes. Esses dois homenzinhos que não paravam de baralhar as cartas, de jogar... Estava ali a chave para passar para o outro lado do muro aparentemente sem saída." Acrescentará mais tarde: "Pour moi Les joueurs de cartes de Cézanne représentait la manière de faire un tableau et correspondait aux sentiments du monde dans lequel je vivais. On était très tournés vers la vie des palavres gens, tels que ceux que l'on sent dans les Cézanne. C'est l'art social, le réalisme, socialiste de ce moment - bonshommes sont dans ma tête à jouer aux cartes, toute ma vie. Ce tableau est important pour moi. Je ne peux pas dire plus, c'est un mystère. Du point de vue plastique, il m'a apporté la construction, le dessin, la couleur, l'austerité, bref ce que j'aime. Ces deux personnages sont comme un mythe pour moi, et qui reste. Ce tableau est le Saint-Pierre de mon ciel."

Au Fil du Temps, Percurso Fotobiográfico de Maria Helena Vieira da Silva

You alone, O heroine, your own light sustains in the light, and your patience, kind one, sustains you in love.

Golden light of love, do you then shine even for the dead? Visions of brighter days, do you illumine my night? Lovely gardens and mountains tinged with the sundown's red, welcome, and you, silent paths of the orchard, you that witnessed heavenly bliss; and you, high-gazing stars that so often granted me blessing glances. And you lovers too, the May day's beautiful children, tranquil roses, and you, lilies, still often I name. Springs, it is true, go by, one year supplants the other, changing and warring Time roars up above, beyond the heads of us mortals, yet not to the eyes of the blessed; and to lovers too a different life has been given. For all these, Diotima, the days and years of the stars, were at one with us then, closely, eternally.

Menon's Lament for Diotima, Hölderlin

And taken by light in her arms at long and dear last
I may without fail
Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars.

Love in the Asylum, Dylan Thomas

Look for me another day. I feel that I could change.

They had killed themselves over our dying forests, over manatees maimed by propellers as they surfaced to drink from garden hoses; they had killed themselves at the sight of used tires stacked higher than the pyramids; they had killed themselves over the failure to find a love none of us could ever be. In the end, the tortures tearing the Lisbon girls pointed to a simple reasoned refusal to accept the world as it was handed down to them, so full of flaws.

The Virgin Suicides, Jeffrey Eugenides

He said he would always bring her poems

And how I kissed you then and you kissed me shy as though I’d never been your lover

The Song, Leonard Cohen

E. River, James Jowers, 1968

On falling in love with James Joyce

"It was cold autumn weather, but in spite of the cold they wandered up and down the roads of the Park for nearly three hours. They agreed to break off their intercourse; every bond, he said, is a bond to sorrow."

Dubliners, James Joyce

Mimesis (Die Natur erzeugt Ähnlichkeiten - La Nature produit des Ressemblances), Barbara & Michael Leisgen, 1972-1973