Linda Pastan, The Months

Saeed Jones, How We Fight for Our Lives

“lesbian texts are passed from hand to hand and mouth to mouth between lesbians. they are located on the skin, in the look, in the geography of the palms of the hands. lesbian literature exists in pieces: in flyers, newsletters, magazines, chapbooks, bathroom stalls, notes, novels, e-mails, love letters, on tiny scraps of paper. lesbian literature also exists in texts that don’t seem to have anything at all to do with lesbians or literature: a customer copy of an American Express receipt, dinner for two at Café Aroma; a torn pack of Trojans that once housed bright red lubricated condoms; a box of Celestial Seasoning’s raspberry zinger tea; a matchbook cover with “Lario’s” on the outside and “call me soon, baby” on the inside. lesbians live in houses with writings on the wall that indicate the way to lesbianism. these texts abound but they are offered only to lesbians; this is why lesbian literature seems scarce. lesbian literature is the unwritten bestseller that all lesbians are reading, all the time: it consists of our every moment.”

— tatiana de la tierra, “Lesbian Literature”

“I am too tired and I miss you too much.”

— Simone de Beauvoir (via quotemadness)

when jenny slate said “domesticity is very sacred to me. making a home is… it’s just, like, the central thing in my life. when I cannot make a home, even in a hotel room, I feel really lost. putting everything in a certain place on purpose. not just, like, throwing shit down. but putting everything in a certain place on purpose and starting to sort of figure out how the trains run, basically. like, what are the paths? what are the paths in the house that you’re going to take the most and what can you line those paths with? or, in the hotel room, like, where are you going to put your journal and your book, so that you’re just starting to create little pathways in this garden and that they mark that space? I just take it really seriously. it’s sort of like… it’s so sweet, it’s sort of like when you see children playing a game and you know they’re marking out a world. and they’re like, “this is where the dungeon is! and this is where the kitchen is in the castle! and this is where the-“, and you can’t see anything but the backyard but they can see everything. that’s what i’m doing and i’m doing it all the time. all the time. and it’s always there. even when I get into a car, I think about where i’m sitting and how i’m sitting and what i’m touching. and I just try hard to do that.”

“Does the sun ask itself, “Am I good? Am I worthwhile? Is there enough of me?” No, it burns and it shines. Does the sun ask itself, “What does the moon think of me? How does Mars feel about me today?” No it burns, it shines. Does the sun ask itself, “Am I as big as other suns in other galaxies?” No, it burns, it shines.”

— Andrea Dworkin, Our blood: prophecies and discourses on sexual politics (1976)