She prayed, and her prayer was monstrous, because in it there was no margin left for damnation or forgiveness, for praise or for blame—those who cannot conceive a bargain cannot be saved or damned. She could not offer herself up; she only told of herself, in a preoccupation that was its own predicament.
Djuna Barnes, Nightwood
"Everyone knew that holy spirits live in the Sembar tree. As night falls, its daytime visitors depart - bees, a bird, and two chameleons."
'The Night Life of Trees', Tara Books
Art: Bhajju Shyam, Durga Bai and Ram Singh Urveti.
Design: Gita Wolf and Rathna Ramanathan.
I am alone in a hostile world. The human face is hideous. This is to my liking. I want publicity and violence and to be dashed like a stone on the rocks. I like factory chimneys and cranes and lorries. I like the passing of face and face and face, deformed, indifferent. I am sick of prettiness; I am sick of privacy. I ride rough waters and shall sink with no one to save me.
Virgina Woolf, The Waves