- Samuel Beckett; “Waiting for Godot” (via fawun)
My legs were cold but my chest was warm. My feet sat upon a table, on a balcony, on the third floor. I rolled my head across the back of the chair to watch a magpie calling out on a clothesline after some time she flew away. Still calling but in motion at the same time. Then I smiled and turned back to face the trees thinking how funny to have a similarity with her. That I’m called to be somewhere else but it’s taken some time to fly away.
Sometimes I wish I could just rip my heart out and place it next to me. I’d just hang with it and get into a monotonous rhythm, when we were done bonding I could then put it back. I imagine it would feel lighter and be sweeter shade of red.
- Portia de Rossi, talking about Ellen Degeneres (via durianquotes)