Wednesday 5/30/2012
5:46pm (1 note)
There is so much I can say about this, and I have a lot of thoughts on the subject of what my beloved Brooklyn has become that I’ll save for another day, but I think this is a pretty accurate starting point, however satirical it may be.
"I saw a street called Myrtle Avenue, which runs from Borough Hall to Fresh Pond Road, and down this street no saint ever walked (else it would have crumbled), down this street no miracle ever passed, nor any poet, nor any species of human genius, nor did any flower ever grow there, not did the sun strike it squarely, nor did the rain ever wash it…Dear reader, you must see Myrtle Avenue before you die, if only to realize how far into the future Dante saw."
-Henry Miller, “Tropic of Capricorn,” 1938
"No doubt she simply echoed what was said for her; but she was nearing her twenty-second birthday, and he wondered at what age “nice” women began to speak for themselves."
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence
Weekend, one of the best movies I’ve seen in a long time.
