Georgia O'Keeffe Quotes

His heart, the war. Her face, the battlefield.

We live in an almost perfect stillness and work with incredible urgency.

Lilt pulled away. "I saw what he was doing, so I cleared a path for him. I helped him do it..." She shook her head, tears tracking the dust off her face, and turned to stare at the fallen tower. "Have we all gone mad to want this?

I’m torn between the desire to create and the desire to destroy.

It was surprising that Nature had gone tranquilly on with her golden process in the midst of so much devilment.

He wanted to hit something or someone. He wanted to burn up the whole world, heal it, and burn it down again.

I told myself, 'All I want is a normal life'. But was that true? I wasn't so sure. Because there was a part of me that enjoyed hating school, and the drama of not going, the potential consequences whatever they were. I was intrigued by the unknown. I was even slightly thrilled that my mother was such a mess. Had I become addicted to crisis? I traced my finger along the windowsill. 'Want something normal, want something normal, want something normal', I told myself.

The fire was silent, the little houses collapsing into the flames without complaint, flocks of sparks rising to the sky. At a distance it seemed beautiful, and I thought it was strange that powerful violence is often so pleasing to the eye.

The elements were "seeking" each other in rage and confusion, and in the fury of the conflict boastful man was utterly humiliated, sucked down, drowned.

Where nature with accustomed round Sweeps and garnishes the ground With kindly beauty, warm or cold Alternate seasons never old: Heathen, how furiously you rage, Cursing this blood and brimstone age, How furiously against your will You kill and kill again, and kill: All thought of peace behind you cast, Till like small boys with fear aghast, Each cries for God to understand, 'I could not help it, it was my hand.

Peace for any prolonged period of time is impossible. Humans have a natural thirst for chaos and war is the most readily available form of chaos.

It may well be that we shall by a process of sublime irony have reached a state in this story where safety will be the sturdy child of terror, and survival the twin brother of annihilation.

This is how the fire starts. This is how we burn.

Torn between the impulse to stroke his head, and the urge to cave it in with a rock, I did neither.

Stories heard but not recalled. Letters too. Words filling my head. Fragmenting like artillery shells. Shrapnel, like syllables, flying everywhere. Terrible syllables. Sharp cracked. Traveling at murderous speed. Tearing through it all in a very, very bad inreparable way.

And if humanity is the last war, then I am the battlefield.

The world wavered and quivered and threatened to burst into flames.

I'm addicted to perfection. Problem with my life is I was always also addicted to chaos. Perfect chaos.

My life was the best omelette you could make with a chainsaw

About, about, in reel and rout the death fires danced at night.

A violent order is disorder; and a great disorder is an order. These two things are one.

I mean when was the last time we had one of these contract signings... that didn't end... in some sort of horrible physical calamity? So if you wanna cut to the chase, you know, we can flip the table over, we can all start beating each other up or we can at least make this entertaining.

Every thought sounds like a footfall, Till a thought like a boot kicks down the wall.

All I heard was the blood rushing through my ears, and the distant rumble and crackle of the Lake of Fire. (And Khufu scratching himself and grunting, but that was nothing new.)