©

Céline S/S 2015

Céline S/S 2015

yhji:

evolution @ iris van herpen ss15

“People who try hard to do the right thing always seem mad.”
“Life is so short, and no one can persuade me to give up something today for the possibilities of tomorrow, promises of the future.”
Liv Ullmann, from Changing
“If two people love each other there can be no happy end to it.”
— Ernest Hemingway
“When she does not find love, she may find poetry. Because she does not act, she observes, she feels, she records; a color, a smile awakens profound echoes within her; her destiny is outside her, scattered in cities already built, on the faces of men already marked by life, she makes contact, she relishes with passion and yet in a manner more detached, more free, than that of a young man. Being poorly integrated in the universe of humanity and hardly able to adapt herself therein, she, like the child, is able to see it objectively; instead of being interested solely in her grasp on things, she looks for their significance; she catches their special outlines, their unexpected metamorphoses. She rarely feels a bold creativeness, and usually she lacks the technique of self-expression; but in her conversation, her letters, her literary essays, her sketches, she manifests an original sensitivity. The young girl throws herself into things with ardor, because she is not yet deprived of her transcendence; and the fact that she accomplishes nothing, that she is nothing, will make her impulses only the more passionate. Empty and unlimited, she seeks from within her nothingness to attain all.”
“I’m more honest in my poetry than to myself. That’s what I’m hunting for when I’m working away there in the poem. I’m hunting for the truth. It might be a kind of poetic truth, and not just a factual one, because behind everything that happens to you, every act there is another truth, a secret life.”
— Anne Sexton, from an interview
“I have not forgotten you — the nights are long and difficult.”
Frida Kahlo, from a diary entry
“I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted
to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is, you have no idea how free.”
Sylvia Plath, Tulips