He marked the page with a match and fell asleep in mid-kiss, while I, a queen bee in a disturbed hive, stay up and buzz: half a kingdom for a honey drop, half a lifetime for a tender word! His face, half turned. Half past midnight. Half past one. — Vera Pavlova, “He marked the… Continue reading Vera Pavlova
Each drop of rain is my failed life weeping in nature. There’s something of my disquiet in the endless drizzle, then shower, then drizzle, then shower, through which the day’s sorrow uselessly pours itself out over the earth. — Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet. (Penguin Classics, 2002) Originally published 1982.