"A man opens his door and gets shot. You think that’s me? No. I am the one who knocks."

– Walter White

Direction with no sense. Wandering aimlessly and throwing sidelong glances down unlit alleyways. Wondering if film is really picking up time stopping for everyone else. Slipping past a security camera’s lapsed hours. Off limit mansions and dim light districts covering the escape.

Direction with no sense. Wandering aimlessly and throwing sidelong glances down unlit alleyways. Wondering if film is really picking up time stopping for everyone else. Slipping past a security camera’s lapsed hours. Off limit mansions and dim light districts covering the escape.

"Did you think your song and dance and your superstition would help you, Eli? I am the Third Revelation! I am who the Lord has chosen!"

– Daniel Plainview

"

abey·ance
noun \ə-ˈbā-ən(t)s\

1: a lapse in succession during which there is no person in whom a title is vested

"

a long shear of light and a series of low concussions

a long shear of light and a series of low concussions

"To make a house, you take a handful of air and you hold it in with some walls."

Nazarite proverb that Alberto Campo Baeza used to describe the work of Aires Mateus. (via areashape)

"Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

– William Butler Yeats, Aed wishes for the cloths of heaven

"Good design is as little design as possible."

– Dieter Rams

"What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egotism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance."

– Neil Postman