Serotonin

Status:
Joined: October 8, 2012
Last Seen: 6 years
user id: 333706
Gender: F
Quotes
Favorites
Following
Followers
Comments
Comments on Quotes
Comments by moi
Quote comments by moi




Hi, welcome to my profile! As you can see, I'm a girl who loves reading and playing video games (such as League of Legends). I hope you enjoy my quotes and profile...I guess? Thank you if you decided to follow me, I really appreciate it!
cLlayout by
cloudlings

Quotes by Serotonin


You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you’d hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you’ll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they’ll be comforted to know your energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you’re just less orderly. Amen.
 

Aaron Freeman, “You Want a Physicist To Speak at Your Funeral”


   
     This is how to close your heart
     up tight like a fist. Desire is a hot
     spike through the chest and 

     you’ve only just learned what it
     is to want someone so badly that
     you need a new name for what

     you feel. I promise that it is not
     always like this. Not everyone you
     meet is unattainable, but we’re 

     young, and the number of times
     that someone tells you no is going
     to outnumber how many times 

     they say yes. Learn how to be
     lonely. Learn what it’s like to know
     that you are coming home to 

     yourself night after night—
     that empty is just another word
     for open


     kristina haynes, The not love poem


I want to rip off your logic and make passionate sense to you. i want to ride in the swing of your hips. my fingers will dig in you like quotation marks, blazing your limbs into parts of speech. i want to whisper poetry into your mind and imprint love letters to your soul and dance with you in an empty white room of potential. ink will flow through the fingertips of our tongues and the tongues of your fingertips will taste the words written on script. my heart will call out to yours and then we'll be joined as one, big, beautiful, lyrical monstrosity, tangled within each other's quotes and philosophies - the heavens will shout down to us and the galaxies will stir. in that one moment, our eyes will caress each other with teh tenderness only star-crossed lovers can acquire. we'll lift off the ground into the enigma of the stars and discover the crevices of the world in which we've never dared to touch before. the palsm of our hands embrace and brazenness replaces apprehension. together, we'll be invincible, we'll wake the universe, they will hear our silent cries, and, holding onto saturn's mysterious rings, we'll defy gravity.
 
( her heartbeat broke the )

sound barrier
astronaut's suicide note: 
black hole awaits!

 

 
HOW DO THEY DO IT?
Astronomers 
do IT in the dark
Mathematicians do IT in numbers
Biologists do IT in the field
Chemists do IT periodically on the table
Geologists do IT in folded beds
Palaeontologists do IT in the dirt
Computer scientists do IT bit by bit
Electrical engineers do IT until it hertz
Physicists do IT with force
When seismologists do IT, the Earth shakes
Zoologists do IT with animals
Quantum physicists do IT uncertainly
Polymer chemists do IT in chains
Cosmologists do IT with a bang
Theorists do IT on paper
Geneticists do IT in their genes
Statisticians do IT with 99% confidence
Planetary scientists do IT while gazing at Uranus
Philosophers only think about doing IT 

What is IT?
Why, science of course!
And shame on you if you thought otherwise.

 


 
Whale Bones

Make love to me in my native language, the one I was born with, the one that my mother poured into my mouth when I was removed from her belly with a steak knife, the one I held between my teeth like raisins warm with sweat.
Erase my name with your tongue the same way Clementine’s memories were erased in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
Here I am, heavy with the weight of desire, complete with a shoplifted heart stolen from a strip mall because I couldn’t afford the 24-carat gold one. Like a blue whale, I can hold countless bodies inside my own. But yours will be the first.


Source: writingsforwinter.tumblr.com

 
'Without pain, how could we know joy?'
This is an old argument in the field of thinking about suffering and its stupidity and lack of sophistication could be plumbed for centuries but suffice it to say that the existence of broccoli does not, in any way, affect the taste of chocolate.

      Love looks not with the eyes, but
                              with the mind, and therefore is 
winged Cupid painted blind

“Readers understand that the books celebrate female power. In the romance novel, the woman always wins. With courage, intelligence and gentleness she brings the most dangerous creature on the earth, the human male, to his knees.”

                                 
 ― Jayne Ann Krentz.

< 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Next >