“I always get asked, ‘Where do you get your confidence?’ I think people are well meaning, but it’s pretty insulting. Because what it means to me is, ‘You, Mindy Kaling, have all the trappings of a very marginalized person. You’re not skinny, you’re not white, you’re a woman. Why on earth would you feel like you’re worth anything?’”

Philosophy, I am convinced, is the most fruitful when it dialectically faces its own demons, and most enlightened when it understands the Others it produces by its own inevitable shadows.

Achieving Our Humanity: The Idea of the Postracial Future By Emmanuel C. Eze.

Emmanuel Chukwudi Eze was a Nigerian-born American philosopher, and a specialist in postcolonial philosophy. He wrote as well as edited influential postcolonial histories of philosophy in Africa, Europe, and the Americas. (1963-2007)

Read The Color of Reason: The Idea of “Race” in Kant’s Anthropology here.

(via medievalpoc)

Guildenstern: It’s autumnal.
Rosencrantz (examining the ground): No leaves.
Guildenstern: Autumnal - nothing to do with leaves. It is to do with a certain brownness at the edges of the day… Brown is creeping up on us, take my word for it… Russets and tangerine shades of old gold flushing the very outside edge of the senses… deep shining ochres, burnt umber and parchments of baked earth — reflecting on itself and through itself, filtering the light. At such times, perhaps, coincidentally, the leaves might fall, somewhere, by repute. Yesterday was blue, like smoke.
Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

Dear brain

please produce something great

something to change the world

and hopefully make me money

a lot of money




alsdjfalsmndf ‘lakejr almdflaksjdfasdnf


Arriving at each new city, the traveler finds again a past of his that he did not know he had: the foreignness of what you no longer are or no longer possess lies in wait for you in foreign, unpossessed places.
Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities
Cities are for
                 breaking you into several people
                                                          at once.
excerpted from Lug Your Body out of the Careful Dusk, by Joshua Marie Wilkinson (via miraging)
She lives the poetry she cannot write.
Oscar Wilde (via loveyourchaos)

The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde

Her lips drink water, but her heart drinks wine.
E.E. Cummings (via careandcuriositykilledthecat)
theme by mcpoyles