Andy Warhol, Male Figure (Leprechaun with Yo-Yo), c. 1953
“I make stories. I twist up toys out of anything…”
The Magic Porridge, Andy Warhol, c. 1956
“…Yet like children we tell each other stories, and to decorate them we make up these ridiculous, flamboyant, beautiful phrases. How tired I am of stories, how tired I am of phrases that come down beautifully with all their feet on the ground!”
René Magritte, Natural Encounters (1945)
“There is no panacea (let me note) against the shock of meeting…”
Patti Smith, The River Ouse.
The noon of April 28, 1941, after she wrote an emotive suicide letter to her husband Leonard, Virginia Woolf walked some blocks engulfed in depression, filled the pockets of her coat with stones and she threw herself into the Ouse River, in Sussex (England).
This is a transcription of the suicide letter:
“I feel certain I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go through another of those terrible times. And I shan’t recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can’t concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don’t think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can’t fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can’t even write properly. I can’t read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can’t go on spoiling your life any longer. I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been.”