NYPL Wire–The New York Public Library: The Books of Marilyn Monroe
nypl:
In honor of Marilyn Monroe’s birthday today, below are just a few of the books that were found in her collection, thanks to BlogHer.
Tender Is The Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Look Homeward Angel by Thomas Wolfe
A Farewell To Arms by Ernest Hemingway
Winesburg, Ohio by…
"I want to leave this place
unremembered."
Fanny Howe, from “The Cenotaph” (via proustitute)
"What is this self inside us, this silent observer,
Severe and speechless critic, who can terrorize us
And urge us on to futile activity
And in the end, judge us still more severely
For the errors into which his own reproaches drove us?"
T. S. Eliot, The Elder Statesman (via proustitute)
nypl:
This is Andy Warhol’s Christmas card from 1954. It is a really early work by the iconic artist - we’re talking pre-Campbell’s soup can here. And it’s in our Mid-Manhattan Picture Collection, along with 1.2 million other incredible items (including lots of Caturday fodder). Read all about our Picture Collection in the Times today - then head to Mid-Manhattan and check it out.
(via T-Rex Trying…)
Tomorrow: A talk with New York Times science reporter William Broad about his new book which investigates the risks and the rewards of yoga. Using the latest scientific research, Broad explains the benefits of yoga, while debunking the myths surrounding it and explaining why certain yoga poses can be quite dangerous.
"Awake at night—
the sound of the water jar
cracking in the cold."
Matsuo Bashō, trans. Robert Haas (via proustitute)
"That is why the better part of our memory exists outside ourselves, in a blatter of rain, in the smell of an unaired room or of the first crackling brushwood fire in a cold grate: wherever, in short, we happen upon what our mind, having no use for it, had rejected, the last treasure that the past has in store, the richest, that which when all our flow of tears seems to have dried at the source can make us weep again. Outside ourselves, did I say; rather within ourselves, but hidden from our eyes in an oblivion more or less prolonged."
Marcel Proust, À l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs, trans. Moncrieff and Kilmartin (via proustitute)
"And the heart, unscrolled,
is comforted by such small things:
a cup of green tea rescues us, grows deep and large, a lake."
Jane Hirschfield, from “Recalling a Sung Dynasty Landscape” (via proustitute)
