Gulf of Sorrows If we were a black velvet painting I’d come out of the frame and hit the arc of your pain a bat in the rafters There, now we can rest Emily Kendal Frey, Sixth Finch. Summer 2013.
Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting. ― Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses. (Vintage June 29, 1993)
It’s true I never write, but I would gladly die with you. Gladly lower myself down alone with you into the enormous mouth that waits, beyond youth, beyond every instant of ecstasy, remember: before battle we would do each other’s makeup, comb each other’s hair out saying we are unconquerable, we are terrible and… Continue reading Franz Wright
I learned that just beneath the surface there’s another world, and still different worlds as you dig deeper. I knew it as a kid, but I couldn’t find the proof. It was just a kind of feeling. There is goodness in blue skies and flowers, but another force—a wild pain and decay—also accompanies everything. —… Continue reading David Lynch
For Julie If I could tie a river around my love’s waist like ribbon, make sails out of her blood and pin down death like a squirming bug. If I could lift and rock each coffin in my arms I would start with hers. — John Rybicki, “If,” When All the World Is… Continue reading John Rybicki
Let all of life be an unfettered howl. ― Vladimir Nabokov, from “Gods,” The Stories of Vladimir Nabokov. (Knopf 24 October 1995)
I could say more, but I don’t want to. I am the prophet of less: a single feather bespeaks the bird and a sigh suffices for love. — David Swanger, from “Sloth,” Wayne’s College of Beauty (BkMK Press, 2006)
Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last, last time. Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison… Continue reading James Baldwin
Vitae summa brevis spem nos vetat incohare longam. They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, Love and desire and hate; I think they have no portion in us after We pass the gate. They are not long, the days of wine and roses, Out of a misty dream Our path emerges for a… Continue reading Ernest Dowson
People wait around too long for love. I’m happy with all of my lusts! ― C. JoyBell C.