Pisces Quotes

I’m a Pisces, and people say that Pisces make the best the best lovers. That’s because Pisces are fish, and it’s like my grandpa always used to say, “The next best thing to making love to a mermaid, is having sex with a fish.

She eyes me like a pisces.

We Pisces, we're a special breed.

Although every Water sign has a strong intuition, Pisces’s and Scorpio’s is exceptional

This sentence is made of lead (and a sentence of lead gives a reader an entirely different sensation from one made of magnesium). This sentence is made of yak wool. This sentence is made of sunlight and plums. This sentence is made of ice. This sentence is made from the blood of the poet. This sentence was made in Japan. This sentence glows in the dark. This sentence was born with a caul. This sentence has a crush on Norman Mailer. This sentence is a wino and doesn't care who knows it. Like many italic sentences, this one has Mafia connections. This sentence is a double Cancer with a Pisces rising. This sentence lost its mind searching for the perfect paragraph. This sentence refuses to be diagrammed. This sentence ran off with an adverb clause. This sentence is 100 percent organic: it will not retain a facsimile of freshness like those sentences of Homer, Shakespeare, Goethe et al., which are loaded with preservatives. This sentence leaks. This sentence doesn't look Jewish... This sentence has accepted Jesus Christ as its personal savior. This sentence once spit in a book reviewer's eye. This sentence can do the funky chicken. This sentence has seen too much and forgotten too little. This sentence is called "Speedoo" but its real name is Mr. Earl. This sentence may be pregnant. This sentence suffered a split infinitive - and survived. If this sentence has been a snake you'd have bitten it. This sentence went to jail with Clifford Irving. This sentence went to Woodstock. And this little sentence went wee wee wee all the way home.

I am a pisces, a fish out of water, searching for a way back home.

There is another side to the Pisces nature and that is the brutal honesty that can catch others off guard.

I would say I'm less afraid of dying than I am of life.

While a Sagittarian tends to be candid, there’s also a part of them that could be described as being more devious than Pisces, more deceptive than Gemini and more carnal than Scorpio.

When Pisces go to war, there’s never a shortage of broken hearts.

She eyes me like a Pisces when I am weak, I've been locked inside your heart-shaped box for weeks.

I, myself, had a very complicated relationship with emptiness, blankness, nothingness. Sometimes I wanted only to fill it, frightened that if I didn’t it would eat me alive or kill me. But sometimes I longed for total annihilation in it—a beautiful, silent erasure. A desire to be vanished.

I don’t know that we are ever really okay in life, but there are times when we feel closer to it -- when we don’t remember what it feels like to suffer.

Was it ever real? The way we felt about another person? Or was it always a projection of something we needed or wanted regardless of them?

How dare he not give a fuck? What a luxury, the luxury of a man. The luxury of someone who looked at the ravages of time and went, “Eh.

You possess a unique, innate ability to see most aspects of most situations all at once!

the world you are forced to inhabit does not match up to the world

Feelings were a luxory of the young, or someone much stronger than me - someone more at ease with being human

On the one hand, you have a wonderfully caring, magnetic personality that draw people in close. On the other hand, you come across as standoffish, even reclusive. While both personalities are, in fact, who you are, at any one moment which side you show to the world depends on who you are with and the circumstances you are in.

Maybe [the ocean and I] were on the same side, comprised of the same things, water mostly, also mystery. The ocean swallowed things up--boats, people--but it didn't look outside itself for fulfillment. It could take whatever skimmed its surface or it could leave it. In its depths already lived a whole world of who-knows-what. It was self-sustaining. I should be like that. It made me wonder what was inside of me.

Chances are, while you can come across as introverted, the real reason for your apparent reserve is you’re happy to be the life of your own party (be it in your head or in your own space) rather than follow the crowd.

We Pisceans know how to swim without water

I made myself wrong for needing someone, for revealing that need. I needed more than the universe could give me. Clearly my feelings were too big for the universe to hold, too disgusting. I would not put them out there like that again. I didn't even want to have to feel them myself.

Revenge is a dish best eaten cold and there is no sweeter dish than outliving an enemy

I don’t need the facts. I’m a Pisces.

This was just what people did now. We went from emotion to phone. This was how you didn’t die in the twenty-first century.

Yes, it certainly seemed like the human instinct, to get high on someone else, an external entity who could make life more exciting and relieve you of your own self, your own life, even just for a moment. Maybe once that person became too real, too familiar, they could no longer get you high - no longer be a drug - and that was why you grew tired of them.

Najljepše i najdublje čitateljsko iskustvo ostvarujemo upravo dok čitamo svoje pisce... Poznat nam je društveni i povijesni kontekst u kojem su djela nastala, razumljive su nam aluzije na koje nailazimo, igre riječi, poznati su nam opisani prostori, a o razumijevanju mentaliteta ne moram ni govoriti. Kao čitatelji najviše profitiramo čitajući svoje književnike.

I liked the Beats for a second when I was fourteen. By sixteen I realized they were mostly just good for picking out a douchebag. There was something about douche bros and the Beats. They just gravitated there.

Rooster/Pisces: Likes shiny things.

In some ways, my moods did and did not exist. People said that you could will a mood into being or will it away. Just think positively. But I never felt that way. My moods were their own entities, even if no one could understand why they were there. That was what made me scared of feelings. I realized now what I had to do, in spite of what others said, was not try to change a mood but surrender to it. I had to surrender to whatever feelings arrived and in doing so I could maybe ride them, floating on the waves. I decided I was going to surrender.

the Age of Pisces, an age of mirrors, tenacity, instinct, twinship, and hidden things. We are contented by this notion. It further affirms our faith in the vast and knowing influence of the infinite sky.

Just because I am paranoid does not mean that someone is not out to get me

But I felt afraid of death, or at least, afraid of dying. Was there something that wasn’t death but wasn’t here either?

The rules don't keep us safe Caledonia. We keep one another safe. If you'd trust us to do that, we wouldn't need rules at all.

There I was, a woman on the rocks by the ocean, wrapped in a blanket, waiting for the return of her lover. Everything I knew about art would say that I was a painting. I was certainly a poem. Sappho was too - her life, perhaps, unknowable, but her feelings were mine. I was mythic.

Early on, when they'd just started home schooling together, he'd written a note on the margin of her page: "What's your star sign?" She'd turned to him, "What does my star sigh?" and he'd seen how much she'd liked the idea that she owned a star, and that it sighed; he'd seen in her eyes that her mind was rushing through the possible words that it could sigh. It's true that his handwriting was bad: the "n" looked a lot like an "h." But when he's crossed it out and written "sign," underlining the "n" three times, a vagueness had wandered onto her face, and she'd thought for a moment, then said, "Pisces," and smiled.

I felt silly asking to enjoy my life. I wondered if this was more than any human being should ask. Did anyone ever say that life was to be enjoyed and not suffered?

I believe in love more than anything. But I think I am very bad at it.

Was this how it was with all men? Did they all exist in a totally different reality - one in which you couldn't ask certain questions or the spell would be broken?

Fact. Pisces is THE most wobbly sign of the Zodiac.

I was always aware that Jack loved women not only for their bodies but for the stories that came into being as they interacted with him--they were part of his "road," the infinite range of experience that always had to remain open to fuel his work.

Did anyone ever say that life was to be enjoyed and not suffered? What if the suffering was the point? But I didn't want to suffer anymore. I couldn't take it. That was clear. So I was going to try to be happy, even if it brought me more suffering.

Signs and wonders, eh? Pity if there is nothing wonderful in signs, and significant in wonders! There's a clue somewhere; wait a bit; hist--hark! By Jove, I have it! Look, you Doubloon, your zodiac here is the life of man in one round chapter; and now I'll read it off, straight out of the book. Come, Almanack! To begin: there's Aries, or the Ram--lecherous dog, he begets us; then, Taurus, or the Bull--he bumps us the first thing; then Gemini, or the Twins--that is, Virtue and Vice; we try to reach Virtue, when lo! comes Cancer the Crab, and drags us back; and here, going from Virtue, Leo, a roaring Lion, lies in the path--he gives a few fierce bites and surly dabs with his paw; we escape, and hail Virgo, the Virgin! that's our first love; we marry and think to be happy for aye, when pop comes Libra, or Scales--happiness weighed and found wanting; and while we are very sad about that, Lord! how we suddenly jump, as Scorpio, or the Scorpion, stings us in rear; we are curing the wound, when whang comes the arrows all round; Sagittarius, or the Archer, is amusing himself. As we pluck out the shafts, stand aside! here's the battering-ram, Capricornus, or the Goat; full tilt, he comes rushing and headlong we are tossed; when Aquarius, or the the Waterbearer, pours out his whole deluge and drowns us; and, to wind up, with Pisces, or the Fishes, we sleep. There's a sermon now, writ in high heaven, and the sun goes through it every year, and yet comes out of it all alive and hearty.

I loved him too. But at the same time, who knew what love was exactly? I still didn't have it figured out. I remembered what Dr. Jude had said. The question is not what is love, but is it really love I'm looking for?

People can be complicated. We can also be ridiculously simple.

I’m sure I’d remember if we’d met. It doesn’t happen every day to witness perfection on Earth.

This was what I needed— multiple men at all times. Then I wouldn’t need any of them. Put me naked in a clamshell. Let them all fawn around me.

Sometimes driven aground by the photon storms, by the swirling of the galaxies, clockwise and counterclockwise, ticking with light down the dark sea-corridors lined with our silver sails, our demon-haunted sails, our hundred-league masts as fine as threads, as fine as silver needles sewing the threads of starlight, embroidering the stars on black velvet, wet with the winds of Time that go racing by. The bone in her teeth! The spume, the flying spume of Time, cast up on these beaches where old sailors can no longer keep their bones from the restless, the unwearied universe. Where has she gone? My lady, the mate of my soul? Gone across the running tides of Aquarius, of Pisces, of Aries. Gone. Gone in her little boat, her nipples pressed against the black velvet lid, gone, sailing away forever from the star-washed shores, the dry shoals of the habitable worlds. She is her own ship, she is the figurehead of her own ship, and the captain. Bosun, Bosun, put out the launch! Sailmaker, make a sail! She has left us behind. We have left her behind. She is in the past we never knew and the future we will not see. Put out more sail, Captain for the universe is leaving us behind…

كيف يمكنني الثقة بزمن ماضيه أوصلني إلى حاضر كهذا ؟

For the love of dick, please fuck me!

I never asked to be born on the planet. I never asked to exist. But I am here now so could you maybe at least try and help me enjoy my life?' I felt silly asking to enjoy my life.

Pisces :Without you I'm nothing, You're my everything. Aquarius :Without you i'm lonely and unpretty, You're my happiness and beauty.

I'd owned enough New Age tchotchkes in my lifetime to know that within a few days of purchase they just seemed like more crap. But as you were shopping, sifting through the stones and their meanings, there was hope that this was a turning point. It was the velocity of buying something that was the high, the potentiality of it. I could capitalist-believe in magic.

How have the dates been treating you?' 'Disgusting,' I said. 'Ah, too bad.' 'Each its own little death.' 'Funny,' he said. 'You're like a little death.' 'What?' I asked. 'You are. You're ... gloomy yet charming. I like it.' 'Well, no one has said that before.' 'You're gently death-ish. You know about death, you're aware of it, and most people aren't anymore. But you're not a killer. You're a soft darkness.

I'd been wrong about death ... There was no gentle escape. When I had taken those Ambien in Phoenix I thought there was a peaceful way to just kind of disappear. But death wasn't gentle. It was a robber. It stole you out of yourself, and you became a husk.

Our estrangement from nature and the unconscious became entrenched roughly two thousand years ago, during the shift from the Age of the Great God Pan to that of Pisces that occurred with the suppression of the pagan mysteries and the rise of Christianity. The psychological shift that ensued left European civilization staring into two millennia of religious mania and persecution, warfare, materialism, and rationalism. The monstrous forces of scientific industrialism and global politics that have been born into modern times were conceived at the time of the shattering of the symbiotic relationships with the plants that had bound us to nature from our dim beginnings. This left each human being frightened, guilt-burdened, and alone. Existential man was born.

And here fantastic fishes duskly float, Using the calm for waters, while their fires Throb out quick rhythms along the shallow air.

Mythical creatures were born and died all the time. They were born when we needed them and they died when we no longer saw them through the same eyes.

Men could smell an opening and they could smell a closing.

I moaned some more, not altogether fake, because I enjoyed hearing myself. But fake in the sense that I knew I was suddenly too self-conscious to be aroused.

...No one knows what they are doing on earth or even off it. The gods didn't even know what the gods were doing, assuming there were even gods. Did the void know what it was doing? Did it know itself? Maybe the void didn't even know what to do with itself and didn't even like itself. Maybe the nothingness knew only to fill itself with people, and in that way was a creator of sorts. Maybe nothingness was a god, but not intentionally cruel-not confident in itself. Maybe it was not evil or saying ha-ha to me, just lonely, hating itself, waning something else to stick inside itself to relieve itself of itself. It seemed as though Theo didn't know what he was doing. I obviously didn't either. In that way maybe we were like gods.

Generally speaking, it is Pisces who provides most of the emotional input into your relationship but that doesn’t mean The Goat is unfeeling or insensitive. Moreover, it is the Fish who provides the extreme highs and low in your relationship and, strangely enough, it is this rollercoaster ride that helps Pisces cope with the monotony and routine and control that is the Goat’s preferred way of living.

I was wearing the same black dress that I had worn with Adam. I had like it so much when I got it, but now that it was no longer new it didn't feel good enough. Now that I had owned it for more than a minute it had gotten some of me on it.

What was glimpsed in Aquarius-what was envisioned, believed in, prophesied, predicted, doubted, and forewarned-is made, in Pisces, manifest. Those solitary visions that, but a month ago belonged only to the dreamer, will now acquire the form and substance of the real. We were of our own making, and we shall be our own end.

On the Ace roof there was flamenco music playing, or bossa nova or something. It all seemed so contemporary and pleasant. The sun was setting and I ordered a white wine. Was this how everything was now? Just nice? I wondered if other people felt comfortable within niceness, or whether they didn't even notice that things were nice. Maybe they expected everything to be nice. Maybe nice was like air to them.

And the earth itself still turning on its axis and revolving around that sun, the sun revolving around the luminous wheel of this galaxy, the countless unmeasured jewelled wheels of countless unmeasured galaxies, turning, turning, majestically, into infinity, into eternity, through all of which all life ran on—all this, long after she herself was dead, men would still be reading in the night sky, and as the earth turned through those distant seasons, and they watched the constellations still rising, culminating, setting, to rise again—Aries, Taurus, Gemini, the Crab, Leo, Virgo, the Scales and the Scorpion, Capricorn the Sea-goat and Aquarius the Water Bearer, Pisces, and once more, triumphantly, Aries!—would they not, too, still be asking the hopeless eternal question: to what end? What force drives this sublime celestial machinery?

I had felt, for a long time, that if I started crying I would not stop—that if I finally ripped, there would be nothing to stop my guts from falling out. I was scared of what might come out of me: the things I would see, what others would see. I was scared the feelings would eat me. Feelings were a luxury of the young, or someone much stronger than me—someone more at ease with being human. It was too late for tears. I was to keep going, to move forward on the same track in spite of life’s unsatisfying lifeness. I was not to ask where I was going or if it was where I really wanted to go. I was not to ask if I was actually going anywhere at all. But now, somehow, I was sobbing.

Columba, Lepus, Canis Major, Canis Minor, Procyon, Betelgeuse, Rigel, Orion, Taurus, Aldebaran, Gemini, Pollux, Castor, Auriga, Capella, the Pleiades, Perseus, Cassiopeia, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Polaris, Draco, Cepheus, Vega, the Northern Cross, Cygnus, Deneb, Delphinus, Andromeda, Triangulum, Aries, Cetus, Pisces, Aquarius, Pegasus, Fomalhaut.

So how long do I have to pack?

He took off my flip-flops and began kissing my feet, sucking my toes.

I told you what I want. You under me, on top of me, against the wall, on this table, against the sofa. Maybe even on the bed. Should I continue?

I was to keep going, to move forward on the same track in spite of life’s unsatisfying lifeness.

I wanted to negate myself somehow, as if you could just sign up to vanish. As if you could sign up to really be alive, but as someone else.

But if Adam wanted me, there were others who would want me, maybe many others, even some who didn’t read Bukowski.

Simply being alive was not enough. The Greeks needed a new fantasy to make the world more exciting. With their war, wine, poetry, gods, and food, they needed to get high. Maybe we all did.

Start with a girl whose blood has been steeped in Korea for generations, imprinted with Confucianism and shamanism and war. Extract her from the mountains. Plant her in wheat fields between the Red River and the Mississippi. Baptize her. Indoctrinate her. Tell her who she is. Tell her what is real. See what happens. Witness a love affair with freaks, a fascination with hermaphrodites and conjoined twins, a fixation on Pisces and pairs of opposites. Trace a dream that won't die: a vision of an old woman slumped on a bench, her spirit sitting straight out of the body, joined to the corpse at the waist.

Nothing is beautiful and everything is nothing,” I said to him. “Everything is nothing and everything is beautiful.” I had no idea what I was talking about but I felt hypnotized with joy and potentiality.

The global triumph of Western values means we, as a species, have wandered into a state of prolonged neurosis because of the absence of a connection to the unconscious. Gaining access to the unconscious through plant hallucinogen use reaffirms our original bond to the living planet. Our estrangement from nature and the unconscious became entrenched roughly two thousand years ago, during the shift from the Age of the Great God Pan to that of Pisces that occurred with the suppression of the pagan mysteries and the rise of Christianity. The psychological shift that ensued left European civilization staring into two millennia of religious mania and persecution, warfare, materialism, and rationalism. The monstrous forces of scientific industrialism and global politics that have been born into modern times were conceived at the time of the shattering of the symbiotic relationships with the plants that had bound us to nature from our dim beginnings. This left each human being frightened, guilt-burdened, and alone. Existential man was

I wish we could live the rest of our lives on these rocks,' I said. 'Why isn't it possible to just live at the edge of both, the ocean and the land?' Of course I knew why. The edge was an uncomfortable and dangerous place for both of us. The rocks were nowhere to live. I had wanted him to come to my world for that same reason. 'One day these rocks won't be here,' he said. 'The ocean will waste them away.' 'Then we could find new rocks,' I said. 'Eventually you have to choose,' he said. 'That's how the story has always been and that's the way it will be forever.' 'But why?' I asked. 'Well,' he said, thinking, 'I guess because the choice is always there.

Jednog Božića Sempere mi je darovao najljepši dar koji sam ikada dobio. Bila je to stara knjiga, temeljito pročitana i proživljena. 'Velika očekivanja Charlesa Dickensa...' pročitao sam na naslovnici. Znao sam da Sempere poznaje neke pisce koji su često posjećivali njegov dućan i, sudeći po ljubavi kojom je rukovao tom knjigom, pomislio sam da je možda i taj don Charles jedan od njih. 'Vaš prijatelj?' 'Još od djetinjstva. Od danas i tvoj.

In my head I just kept saying, Shut up, shut up! I wanted to say, Don't you know I am dying? But even in my dying I couldn't be mean to him for fear that he would think I was a bitch. Why did I even care what he thought? Was my death that unimportant? How could I prioritize the feelings of this vacant, mustached kid over my own-me, who was probably dying?

Those highs, even if they were fake and we knew that they wouldn't last forever, felt so real when we were in them. That's where I was now. I just couldn't discern the ephemeral nature of what I was experiencing, and didn't want to. Perhaps what I had with Theo was as synthetic as what Claire had with her men, but it felt so good- how could we ever even care when we were in it?

What was glimpsed in Aquarius—what was envisioned, believed in, prophesied, predicted, doubted, and forewarned—is made, in Pisces, manifest. Those solitary visions that, but a month ago, belonged only to the dreamer, will now acquire the form and substance of the real. We were of our own making, and we shall be our own end. And after Pisces? Out of the womb, the bloody birth. We do not follow: we cannot cross from last to first. Aries will not admit a collective point of view, and Taurus will not relinquish the subjective. Gemini's code is an exclusive one. Cancer seeks a source, Leo, a purpose, and Virgo, a design; but these are projects undertaken singly. Only in the zodiac's second act will we begin to show ourselves: in Libra, as a notion, in Scorpio, as a quality, and in Sagittarius, as a voice. In Capricorn we will gain memory, and in Aquarius, vision; it is only in Pisces, the last and oldest of the zodiacal signs, that we acquire a kind of selfhood, something whole. But the doubled fish of Pisces, that mirrored womb of self and self-awareness, is an ourobouros of mind—both the will of fate, and the fated will—and the house of self-undoing is a prison built by prisoners, airless, door-less, and mortared from within. These alterations come upon us irrevocably, as the hands of the clock-face come upon the hour.

What if everything was natural? What if there was no wrong or right action in terms of who you loved, who you wanted, or who you were drawn to? If the will of the universe was the will of the universe, and if everything was happening as it was, then wasn't everything you could possibly do all right?

To je izvorno moj osjećaj, ali su ga oni zapisali prije mene. Je li to ono što voliš u književnosti, razlog zbog čega neke pisce više voliš nego neke druge; je li to, dakle, ono kada netko piše o nečemu što već od prije nosiš u sebi, ali do tada nisi uspio, želio ili se usuđivao izraziti onako kako to uspijevaju tebi omiljeni pisci. Oni čije knjige čitaš po nekoliko puta, autori koji pišu baš kao što se osjećaš, pogode ti žicu, zaraze te, opčine svojim skladnim rečenicama a da i ne znaš točno zašto, pa im se stalno iznova vraćaš. Ponekad ti se čini kako si i sam mogao napisati takvo što, samo kad bi imao malo više vremena, strpljenja i, što je najvažnije, hrabrosti pretvoriti svoje osjećaje u pisanu riječ, zaviriti u skrivene kutke vlastite duše kojih ima više nego naslućuješ i razgolititi se pred čitateljstvom. Ono što volimo dok čitamo neku knjigu su zapravo osjećaji ili misli koje prepoznajemo kao svoje. Volimo se prepoznati u knjizi, i to je sve.

Suddenly I wanted to stay. For maybe the first time in my life, I didn't want to abandon an uncomfortable feeling. I wanted to give her motherly love in the way she had tried to give me motherly love. Hers had always been from a distance, but it was there. And I wanted to give her motherly love in the way that she couldn't give me motherly love: by staying, even when it was uncomfortable. Wasn't it time that I showed up for her? I also wanted to give her love in the sisterly way I had given Claire and Diana love. The group had taught me how to do that, imperfectly, but I knew what it was now. You just sat there with someone and listened. That was all you had to do.

I don't know that we are ever really okay in life, but there are times when we feel closer to it - when we don't remember what it feels like to suffer. During these times we are moving forward in the void, forgetting we are going nowhere, so the void feels less daunting. We feel like we are handling shit. We are handling shit and doing work on ourselves. And then another person comes in, and meets us thee, and we think we can handle it. We think we can handle it, because in that moment we feel that we can handle anything.

I don't know that we are ever really okay in life, but there are times when we feel closer to it - when we don't remember what it feels like to suffer. During these times we are moving forward in the void, forgetting we are going nowhere, so the void feels less daunting. We feel like we are handling shit. We are handling shit and doing work on ourselves. And then another person comes in, and meets us there, and we think we can handle it. We think we can handle it, because in that moment we feel that we can handle anything.

Do you really believe that? Twelve of us are literally here to find a soulmate and live happily ever after?

Only when you’re ready to learn will you seek what you need to find.

TIME TO SACRIFICE TAURUS This is the night of union when the stars scatter their rice over us. The sky is excited! Venus cannot stop singing the little songs she's making up, like birds in the first warm spring weather. The North Star can't quit looking over at Leo. Pisces is stirring milky dust from the ocean floor. Jupiter rides his horse near Saturn, "Old man, jump up behind me! The juice is coming back! Think of something happy to shout as we go. "Mars washes his bloody sword, puts it up, and begins building things. The Aquarian water jar fills, and the Virgin pours it generously. The Pleiades and Libra and Aries have no trembling in them anymore. Scorpio walks out looking for a lover, and so does Sagittarius! This is not crooked walking like the Crab. This is a holiday we've been waiting for. It is finally time to sacrifice Taurus and learn how the sky is a lens to look through. Listen to what's inside what I say. Shams will appear at dawn; then even night will change from its beloved animated darkness to a day within this ordinary sweet daylight.

Gods, please help me to be happy. Let me do the will of the universe and be willing to do the will of the universe, whatever that even is. Clearly I know very little. Clearly what I think I know leads me only to a place of suicidal longing. I never asked to be born on the planet. I never asked to exist. But I am here now so could you maybe at least try and help me enjoy my life?

I couldn't say anything. All those years I had tried to get us to cohabitate, and all it took for this blond scientist bitch was some little womb booger and there he was, boom, ready to commit

You had to never get attached to any other person or expect anything good to come to you, and that was how you fell in love with life and how maybe certain fun and good things could happen to you. They only happened as long as you didn't need anything from anyone. As long as you didn't take anything from anyone or give any part of yourself away to another person, but you just sort of met the other person in space, good things could happen. You had to fall in love with quiet first.

I didn't know if the universe actively taught lessons. But if it did, the lesson was that I could not handle what I thought I could handle. The lesson was that I didn't need to act out with Theo to learn the lesson. I didn't have to suffer again. The suffering of others, Claire and now Diana, could remind me of my own suffering: the suffering of the past and my potential future suffering. Maybe this is why we did things in groups. Maybe this is why people had friends: so we could see ourselves and our own insanity in them.

I’d owned enough New Age tchotchkes in my lifetime to know that within a few days of purchase they just seemed like more crap. But as you were shopping, sifting through the stones and their meanings, there was hope that this was a turning point. It was the velocity of buying something that was the high, the potentiality of it. I could capitalist-believe in magic. In the store was hope, and hope was what separated me from the flat expanse of the rest of my life. It was like a line, a gateway that stopped me from being swallowed.

is the “waters” of the celestial “ocean” which come to mind, in which Noah’s Ark now swims as a constellation. In the Indian version of this story the ark is a boat on which the Seven Rishis (better known to us as the Big Dipper, or Ursa Major), and the Vedic culture that they represent, are ferried to safety by a giant Fish (the constellation Pisces). Gazing on myth from this angle we can find in the skies many of the cast of characters of “The Greatness of Saturn.” Aditi [* FOOTNOTE: A well-thought-out cosmology which catalogues such extensions of ‘Earth’ into ‘Space’ is presented by Giorgio de Santillana and Hertha von Dechend in Namlet’s Mill, and the interested reader will find a wealth of detail worth pondering in that book.] (‘The Unbroken, Unbounded One’; by extension, eternity) is the mother of the devas, the ‘shining celestials,’ and Diti (‘The Bound, Divided, Cut One’) is the mother of the asuras, the enemies of the devas. There is good reason to believe that Aditi represents the northern celestial hemisphere and the zodiac, which being the part of the heavens that is visible throughout the year

I'll read it off, straight out of the book. Come, Almanack! To begin: there's Aries, or the Ram— lecherous dog, he begets us; then, Taurus, or the Bull— he bumps us the first thing; then Gemini, or the Twins— that is, Virtue and Vice; we try to reach Virtue, when lo! comes Cancer the Crab, and drags us back; and here, going from Virtue, Leo, a roaring Lion, lies in the path— he gives a few fierce bites and surly dabs with his paw; we escape, and hail Virgo, the Virgin! that's our first love; we marry and think to be happy for aye, when pop comes Libra, or the Scales—happiness weighed and found wanting; and while we are very sad about that, Lord! how we suddenly jump, as Scorpio, or the Scorpion, stings us in the rear; we are curing the wound, when whang comes the arrows all round; Sagittarius, or the Archer, is amusing himself. As we pluck out the shafts, stand aside! here's the battering-ram, Capricornus, or the Goat; full tilt, he comes rushing, and headlong we are tossed; when Aquarius, or the Waterbearer, pours out his whole deluge and drowns us; and to wind up with Pisces, or the Fishes, we sleep. There's a sermon now, writ in high heaven, and the sun goes through it every year, and yet comes out of it all alive and hearty. Jollily

I saw a girl bike by on the boardwalk. She has long hair to her ass and was wearing a tiny black skirt and a hot pink crop top with her stomach showing. I thought to myself, You little slut. I didn't think it in a mean way but as a celebratory thing. I wanted to be her in that moment. She seemed like such an independent slut. I bet she never waited for texts, just fucked guys like Garrett all the time, casually. Surfer boys who looked like Theo the swimmer too, probably. I bet she never got attached. I wanted to be like this girl, not dependent on anyone else to be okay. Slutty, but an island.She wasn't pretending to be content without anything while secretly wallowing in misery. She genuinely didn't give a fuck.