Upstream Color Original Soundtrack Leaves Expanded May Be Prevailing Blue Mixed With Yellow Of The Sand I Used To Wonder At The Halo Of Light Around My Shadow And Would Fancy Myself One Of The Elect Fearing That They Would Be Light-headed For Want Of Food And Also Sleep Stirring Them Up As The Keeper Of A Menagerie His Wild Beasts The Finest Qualities Of Our Nature Like The Bloom On Fruits Can Be Preserved Perhaps The Wildest Sound That Is Ever Heard Here Making The Woods Ring Far And Wide I Love To Be Alone A Young Forest Growing Up Under Your Meadows Their Roots Reaching Quite Under The House The Rays Which Stream Through The Shutter Will Be No Longer Remembered When The Shutter Is Wholly Removed After Soaking Two Years And Then Lying High Six Months It Was Perfectly Sound Though Waterlogged Past Drying The Sun Is But A Morning Star A Low And Distant Sound Gradually Swelling And Increasing As If It Would Have A Universal And Memorable Ending A Sullen Rush And Roar Shane Carruth, Upstream Color www.discogs.com WaldenI love to be alone euphonynaturelonelinessmelancholysoundending
To know the place for the first time We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding The Dark Tower timecyclesendingexploration
She was wanting to break it off One summer morning, the beginning of July, I got this long letter from my girlfriend, and in it she’d written that she wanted to break up with me. I’ve always felt close to you, and I still like you even now, and I’m sure that from here on I’ll continue to…et cetera, et cetera. In short, she was wanting to break it off. She had found herself a new boyfriend. I hung my head and smoked six cigarettes, went outside and drank a can of beer, came back in and smoked another cigarette. Then I took three HB pencils I had on my desk and snapped them in half. It wasn’t that I was angry, really. I just didn’t know what to do. In the end, I merely changed clothes and headed off to work. And for a while there, everyone within shouting distance was commenting on my suddenly “outgoing disposition”. What is it about life? Haruki Murakami, The Last Lawn of the Afternoon ending
Until we leave the gate behind And yet the timeless way is not complete, and will not fully generate the quality without a name, until we leave the gate behind. Indeed this ageless character has nothing, in the end, to do with languages. The language, and the processes which stem from it, merely release the fundamental order which is native to us. They do not teach us, they only remind us of what we know already, and of what we shall discover time and time again, when we give up our ideas and opinions, and do exactly what emerges from ourselves. At this final stage, the patterns are no longer important: the patterns have taught you to be receptive to what is real. It is the gate which leads you to the state of mind, in which you live so close to your own heart that you no longer need a language. This is the final lesson of the timeless way. Christopher Alexander, The Timeless Way of Building The natural thing to do zenending
A circle of beads If you count off a circle of beads, you never reach an end. At what point, and with what feelings, would his fingers cease to move those beads? This may be a silly question, but it haunts me. Natsume Sōseki, Kokoro ending
Now get inside You say the ocean's rising like I give a shit You say the whole world's ending, honey, it already did You're not gonna slow it, Heaven knows you tried Got it? Good, now get inside Bo Burnham, Bo Burnham: Inside genius.com ending
When life is over At the end, which is when life is over, death removes all the clothing that differentiated them, and all are equal in the grave. Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote deathstatusending
That funny feeling That unapparent summer air in early fall The quiet comprehending of the ending of it all There it is again That funny feeling Bo Burnham, Bo Burnham: Inside genius.com ending
You can get anywhere from anywhere And if you can get anywhere from anywhere, You can start anywhere And end anywhere. There is no single necessary order. Verlyn Klinkenborg, Several Short Sentences About Writing progressending
Ending is better than mending “We always throw away old clothes. Ending is better than mending, ending is better than mending, ending is better…” Aldous Huxley, Brave New World noveltyrepairtrashwastemelancholyending
Graceful Exits: How Great Beings Die A Book by Sushila Blackman Japanese Death PoemsHe only who has lived with the beautiful exitsdeathending
How do you know when your paintings are finished? A Quote by Gerhard Richter matthiasott.com When nothing disturbs me and I have no idea what to do more, what I could add or destroy. This is very surprising, often, when I’m painting, again and again, every day and it feels like it is never-ending […] and it will never become a good painting. And suddenly, it’s finished. Oh! Good. Thanks. Painting With the Web perfectionprogressending
Exit pages An Idea by Brad Enslen ramblinggit.com Today I made an Exit page. So many people end their visit by hitting the Back button on their browser. The exit page is a last attempt to get them to explore the Blog Directory to find an entertaining blog. Or failing that to try a search on a search engine they may have never tried before. exitswwwfunwhimsyending
To the Lighthouse A Novel by Virginia Woolf gutenberg.net.au All the lives to beThe alphabetGone crookedExtinguishedA thing you could ruffle with your breath+5 More solitudemelancholyloneliness
All the lives to be And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be are full of trees and changing leaves. nature
The alphabet Yet he would not die lying down; he would find some crag of rock, and there, his eyes fixed on the storm, trying to the end to pierce the darkness, he would die standing. He would never reach R. death
Gone crooked He was coming to see himself, and everything he had ever known gone crooked a little. It was awfully strange.
A thing you could ruffle with your breath It was a thing you could ruffle with your breath; and a thing you could not dislodge with a team of horses.
A coherence in things There is a coherence in things, a stability; something, she meant, is immune to change, and shines out…in the face of the flowing, the fleeting, the spectral, like a ruby. time
All dark and spreading Beneath it is all dark, it is spreading, it is unfathomably deep; but now and again we rise to the surface and that is what you see us by.
There, with a dash on the beach How life, from being made up of little separate incidents which one lived one by one, became curled and whole like a wave which bore one up with it and threw one down with it, there, with a dash on the beach. life
They would never know She would never know him. He would never know her. Human relations were all like that. melancholy