Moments of Grace

If language exists it is because below the levels of identities and differences, there is a foundation provided by resemblances, repetitions, and natural criss-crossings. Resemblance, excluded from knowledge since the seventeenth century, still constitutes the outer edge of language: the ring surrounding the domain of that which can be analyzed, reduced to order and known. Discourse dissipates this murmur [of resemblance] but without it we could not speak.

—Michel Foucault, The Order of Things

Oh husband of mine... I almost left this video as a comment on your FB profile last week… but I didn’t. Looks like it found its way to you nonetheless…

Chocolate Jesus by Tom Waits (via awewwe)

And why don’t you write? Write! Writing is for you, you are for you; your body is yours, take it. I know why you haven’t written. (And why I didn’t write before the age of twenty-seven.) Because writing is at once too high, too great for you, it’s reserved for the great —that is for ‘great men’; and it’s ‘silly’. Besides, you’ve written a little, but in secret. And it wasn’t good, because it was in secret, and because you punished yourself for writing, because you didn’t go all the way, or because you wrote, irresistibly, as when we would masturbate in secret, not to go further, but to attenuate the tension a bit, just enough to take the edge off. And then as soon as we come, we go and make ourselves feel guilty —so as to be forgiven; or to forget, to bury it until the next time….

—Hélène Cixous (via estivation)