the flesh covers the bone

and they put a mind

in there and sometimes a soul,

and the women break

vases against the walls

and them men drink too much

and nobody finds the one

but they keep looking

crawling in and out of beds.

flesh covers the bone

and the flesh searches

for more than flesh.

there’s no chance at all:

we are all trapped by a singular fate.

nobody ever finds the one …

Charles Bukowski – * alone with everybody *

Love Is a Dog from Hell

Love without truth is sentimentality;

it supports and affirms us

but keeps us in denial about our flaws.

Truth without love is harshness;

it gives us information but in such a way

that we cannot really hear it.

– Timothy J. Keller –

Ph : Helmut Newton

. . some moment happens in your life that you say yes right up to the roots of your hair, that makes it worth having been born just to have happened.

… if you throw your arms around such a moment and hug it like crazy, it may save your soul.

– Frederick Buechner –

Ph : Josephine Cardin

There is a fragrance in the air, a certain passage of a song, an old photograph falling out from the pages of a book, the sound of somebody’s voice in the hall that makes your heart leap and fills your eyes with tears.

Who can say when or how it will be that something easters up out of the dimness to remind us of a time before we were born and after we will die?

– Frederick Buechner – Telling the Truth

Ph : Josephine Cardin