The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart. — Helen Keller
Realize you don’t know where you’re going and the weather changes often. Steer between the stars like songbirds coming back at night. Listen to the whirring of a thousand, thousand miles of dark. —Susan Elbe, from “How to Fall in Love.” diode: poetry. fall 2008 volume 2 numb er 1
Here I am trying to live, or rather, I am trying to teach the death within me how to live. – Jean Cocteau
Today I heard my heart screeching like a subway train loudly enough to remind me it was still human loudly enough to hurt —Audre Lorde, from “Hard Love Rock,” Coal. (W. W. Norton & Company August 17, 1996)
Let us leave pretty women to men with no imagination. ― Marcel Proust, The Captive & The Fugitive: In Search of Lost Time, Vol. V. (Modern Library February 16, 1999) Originally published 1925.
A Story That Could Be True If you were exchanged in the cradle and your real mother died without ever telling the story then no one knows your name, and somewhere in the world your father is lost and needs you but you are far away. He can never find how true you are, how… Continue reading William Stafford
No matter what, nobody can take away the dances you’ve already had. ― Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores. (International Vintage November 2006 ) Originally published October 19th 2004.
An old willow with hollow branches slowly swayed his few high gright tendrils and sang: Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood’s edge. —William Carlos Williams, “Epitaph,” The Collected Poems, Vol. 1: 1909-1939. (New Directions; Reprint edition September 17, 1991) Originally published 1951.
I wonder why our life must quiver between beauty and guilt, consummation and sadness, desire and regret, immortality and tattered moments unknowable, truth and beautiful meaningful lies. – Jack Kerouac, Windblown World: The Journals of Jack Kerouac 1947-1954 (Viking Adult, 2004)
And that is the precise heartbreak of the past: that is doesn’t return, not even when you don’t want it to. —Carrie Fountain, from “Restaurant Fire, Truth or Consequences,” Burn Lake (Penguin Books, 2010)