“I have lost friends, some by death…others by sheer inability to cross the street.”
— Virginia Woolf (via gauriburma)
And when I read them, when I breathe them, I feel alive. There is breeze, there is music, there is freedom.. and there is love. Thank you :)
(Source: letterstodeadpeople)
“He smiled understandingly — much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life.”
Like she said, if you haven’t read this one, you’re missing something in life.
“It has been my stance for some time now that the histories of colonialism, slavery, indentured labor, gender, oppression, and class stratification speak not only of the specific classes or peoples or regions to which they are most obviously tied, but more generally of the social differentiations that constitute modernity — of the everyday of modernity. Colonial or postcolonial or minority discourses, describe them as you like, help us to think through the ways in which hierarchies have been articulated and negotiated within modernity. I have argued against the citation of colonial-discourse analysis as a form of “post-Modernism”; I am more interested in rethinking the genealogies of modernity “against the grain.” As I asked in The Location of Culture, What was modernity for those who were part of its instrumentality or governmentality but, for reasons of race or gender or economic status, were excluded from its norms of rationality, or its prescriptions of progress? What contending and competing discourses of emancipation or equality, what forms of identity and agency, emerge from the “discontents” of modernity?”
