- The sound of a cat’s footfall
- The beard of a woman
- The roots of a mountain
- The sinews of a bear
- The breath of a fish
- The spittle of a bird
You’ll also need to visit Svartálfaheimr.
"Aurorae were seen around the world, even over the Caribbean; those over the Rocky Mountains were so bright that their glow awoke gold miners, who began preparing breakfast because they thought it was morning."
The Carrington Event, or Solar Superstorm of 1859. You know, that time when you could see the aurora in Cuba.
The light appeared to cover the whole firmament, apparently like a luminous cloud, through which the stars of the larger magnitude indistinctly shone. The light was greater than that of the moon at its full, but had an indescribable softness and delicacy that seemed to envelop everything upon which it rested.
"I can’t tell you where it comes from. It comes from silence, most of it. I sit around and I’m waiting. I’m waiting and waiting."
— Scott Walker on writing Tilt.
"In the beginning there were only probabilities. The universe could only come into existence if someone observed it. It does not matter that the observers turned up several billion years later. The universe exists because we are aware of it."
— Martin Rees
"There are no fixtures in nature. The universe is fluid and volatile. Permanence is but a word of degrees."
— Emerson, Circles.
"The more important point here, though, is that the whole animal-cruelty-and-eating issue is not just complex, it’s also uncomfortable. It is, at any rate, uncomfortable for me, and for just about everyone I know who enjoys a variety of foods and yet does not want to see herself as cruel or unfeeling. As far as I can tell, my own main way of dealing with this conflict has been to avoid thinking about the whole unpleasant thing."
— David Foster Wallace, Consider the Lobster. (via superkingdom)
"To set one’s name to work gives no one a title to be remembered, for who knows how many of the best men have gone without a trace? The iniquity of oblivion blindly scatters her poppyseed and when wretchedness falls upon us one summer’s day like snow, all we wish for is to be forgotten."
— W.G. Sebald, The Rings of Saturn.