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Mark Strand

Comes down from the mountain the cream-colored horse, comes across dun fields and steps lightly into the house, and stands in the bright living room cloud-like and silent. And now, without warning, the gray arm of the wind takes him away. “I loved that horse,” thought the poet. “I could have loved anything, but I… Continue reading Mark Strand

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British Culture · British Literature · Classic · Czechoslovakian Culture · Drama · Dramaturgy · Excerpt · Humor · Paraphrase · Passage · Play · Quote · Theatre

Tom Stoppard

Whatever became of the moment when one first knew about death? There must have been one, a moment, in childhood, when it first occurred to you that you don’t go on forever. It must have been shattering, stamped into one’s memory. And yet I can’t remember it. It never occurred to me at all. We… Continue reading Tom Stoppard

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