The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet, black bough. —Ezra Pound, “In a Station of the Metro,” Personæ: The Shorter Poems. (New Directions; 1 edition September 17, 1990) Originally published 1971. Advertisements
We have normality. I repeat, we have normality. Anything you still can’t cope with is therefore your own problem. ― Douglas Adams
Our Masterpiece Is the Private Life for Jules I Is there something down by the water keeping itself from us, Some shy event, some secret of the light that falls upon the deep, Some source of sorrow that does not wish to be discovered yet? Why should we care? Doesn’t desire cast its rainbows over… Continue reading Mark Strand
Now I predict the future / merely by listening to echoes. A slamming door / can tell you everything you need to know. It’s not a trick / only a simple matter of wisdom, an obsessive attention / to dreams. — Mary Jo Bang, from “The Oracle,”Apology for Want: Poems. (Middlebury; 1st edition July 15,… Continue reading Mary Jo Bang
We moved like angels washing themselves. We moved like two birds on fire. — Anne Sexton, from “How We Danced” in “The Death of the Fathers,” The Norton Anthology of American Literature, ed. Baym et al, 5th edition, Volume 2, (New York and London: W. W. Norton & Co., 1998)
None of us suffers as much as we should, or loves as much as we say. Love is the first lie; wisdom the last. — Djuna Barnes, Nightwood. (New Directions; unknown edition September 26, 2006) Originally published 1936.
The desire to be loved is the last illusion Give it up and you will be free. — Margaret Atwood, from “A Sunday Drive,” Selected Poems II: Poems Selected & New 1976-1986. (Houghton Mifflin November 5, 1987)