Ginger Magnum

"I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul."  Pablo Neruda - Sonnet XVII

"Somebody at one of these places [...] asked me: 'What do you do? How do you write, create?' You don't, I told them. You don't try. That's very important: 'not' to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It's like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like its looks you make a pet out of it." Charles Bukowski

"THERE’S A BLUEBIRD IN MY HEART THAT WANTS TO GET OUT BUT I’M TOO TOUGH FOR HIM, I SAY, STAY IN THERE, I’M NOT GOING TO LET ANYBODY SEE YOU. THERE’S A BLUEBIRD IN MY HEART THAT WANTS TO GET OUT BUT I POUR WHISKEY ON HIM AND INHALE CIGARETTE SMOKE"   -  CH ARLES BUKOWSK I_ EXCERPTS FROM THE BLUEBIRD

We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright. — Ernest Hemingway

There seethed all around me a cauldron of lawless loves. I loved not yet, yet I loved to love, and out of a deep-seated want, I hated myself for wanting not. I sought what I might love, in love with loving, and I hated safety... To love then, and to be beloved, was sweet to me; but more, when I obtained to enjoy the person I loved. I defiled, therefore, the spring of friendship with the filth of concupiscence, and I beclouded its brightness with the hell of lustfulness. Augustine of Hippo—  Confessions  3.1.1

Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, and it is yours. — Ayn Rand

One thing that G.K. Chesterton actually did say was this: “Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese." Well, I’m no poet but I don’t mind saying it: I fucking love cheese, me. I can sort of remember John Lennon and Elvis dying and I remember school assembly the day of the first ever space shuttle launch, but the lunch time I had my first ever slice of melted cheese on toast is indelibly etched on my brain. I remember with the surety and firmness that all childhood memories are built on, raising the slice aloft and declaring: “What prestidigitation is this? What magical transfiguration of nature is this which has rendered that which was nice into that which is necessary? I am become Ozymandias, melter of cheese. Stare upon my toastie and despair.”

Although often attributed to G.K. Chesterton, it was actually the Belgian poet Émile Cammaerts, who said: “When people stop believing in God, they don’t believe in nothing – they believe in anything.”