Did familiarity help you play a brother and sister?

HADER Having worked together really helped me personally, because I was able to be vulnerable around Kristen. It was a new kind of part for me, and it was nice being there with someone you knew had your back and who you could fail in front of.

WIIG And we have a very brother-and-sister vibe in real life.

canmakedothink:

-teesa-:

9.2.14

PROTECT JESSICA WILLIAMS AT ALL COSTS.

(via whynotmephilosophy)

thepianofarm:

bostonpoetryslam: Marcelo Hernandez Castillo, “Cenzóntle” published in The Paris American

thepianofarm:

bostonpoetryslam: Marcelo Hernandez Castillo, “Cenzóntle” published in The Paris American

thepianofarm:

William Stafford.

thepianofarm:

William Stafford.

You are neither here nor there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open
Seamus Heaney, from “Postscript” 

(via the-final-sentence)

What a story is, is devious. It pretends transparency, forthrightness. It engages with ordinary people, ordinary matters, recognizable stuff. But this is all a masquerade. What good stories deal with is the horror and incomprehensibility of time, the dark encroachment of old catastrophes…
Joy Williams (via mttbll)

(via thetinhouse)

I’ve had it with all stingy-hearted sons of bitches.
A heart is to be spent.
Stephen Dunn
It is a curious thing, but as one travels the world getting older and older, it appears that happiness is easier to get used to than despair. The second time you have a root beer float, for instance, your happiness at sipping the delicious concoction may not be quite as enormous as when you first had a root beer float, and the twelfth time your happiness may be still less enormous, until root beer floats begin to offer you very little happiness at all, because you have become used to the taste of vanilla ice cream and root beer mixed together. However, the second time you find a thumbtack in your root beer float, your despair is much greater than the first time, when you dismissed the thumbtack as a freak accident rather than part of the scheme of a soda jerk, a phrase which here means “ice cream shop employee who is trying to injure your tongue,” and by the twelfth time you find a thumbtack, your despair is even greater still, until you can hardly utter the phrase “root beer float” without bursting into tears. It is almost as if happiness is an acquired taste, like coconut cordial or ceviche, to which you can eventually become accustomed, but despair is something surprising each time you encounter it.
Lemony Snicket, The End (via observando)

(via jkeith757)

It’s OK not to be a genius, whatever that is, if there even is such a thing…the creative life may or may not be the apex of human civilization, but either way it’s not what I thought it was. It doesn’t make you special and sparkly. You don’t have to walk alone. You can work in an office — I’ve worked in offices for the past 15 years and written five novels while doing it. The creative life is forgiving: You can betray it all you want, again and again, and no matter how many times you do, it will always take you back.
Lev Grossman manages to smash “you don’t have to be a genius” and “keep your day job” into his great essay, "How Not to Write a Novel" (his book, The Magician’s Land, is out this week)

(via buzzfeed)

"hallelujah for knowledge and for the honor of language and ideas and books."

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