American Culture · American Literature · Anthology · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Contemporary · Poetry

Jack Gilbert

The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart How astonishing it is that language can almost mean,and frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say,God, we say, Rome and Michiko, we write, and the wordsget it all wrong. We say bread and it means accordingto which nation. French has no word for home,and we have no… Continue reading Jack Gilbert

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American Culture · American Literature · Autobiographical · Biographical · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Correspondence · Epistolary · Essay · Excerpt · Letter · Non-fiction · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote · Self-help

Kent Nerburn

Loneliness is like sitting in an empty room and being aware of the space around you. It is acondition of separateness. Solitude is becoming one with the space around you. It is a condition of union. Loneliness is small, solitude is large. Loneliness closes in around you; solitude expands toward the infinite. Loneliness has its… Continue reading Kent Nerburn

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Poetry · Fragment · Collection · Excerpt · Classic · Contemporary · American Literature · Passage · American Culture · Southern Literature

William Alexander Percy

I have a need of silence and of stars ;Too much is said too loudly ; I am dazed.The silken sound of whirled infinityIs lost in voices shouting to be heard. — William Alexander Percy, from “In New York,” In April Once. (Hesperides Press October 26, 2007) Originaly published 1920.

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Classic · Excerpt · Fiction · French Culture · French Literature · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote

Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette

There are days when solitude is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall. ― Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette, Oeuvres complètes en seize volumes. (Flammarion November 19, 1992) Originally published April 18th 1974.

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Adult Fiction · Classic · Collection · Cuban-American Culture · Erotica · Excerpt · Fiction · French-American Culture · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote · Short Stories

Anaïs Nin

I love your silences, they are like mine. You are the only being before whom I am not distressed by my own silences. You have a vehement silence, one feels it is charged with essences, it is a strangely alive silence, like a trap open over a well, from which one can hear the secret… Continue reading Anaïs Nin

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