Sleep seems to hammer out for me the logical conclusions of my vague days, and offer them to me as dreams. ― D. H. Lawrence Advertisements
I skim sadness like fat off the surface of cooling soup. Don’t care about metaphor but wish it would arrive me. There’s a cool current of air this hot day I want to ride. I have no lover, not even my love. I have no other, not even I. — Rachel Zucker, “Real Poem.,” The… Continue reading Rachel Zucker
A lake is a landscape’s most beautiful and expressive feature. It is Earth’s eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature. ― Henry David Thoreau, Walden. (Princeton University Press; 150th Anniversary edition with a New introduction by John Updike edition April 18, 2004) Originally published 1854.
Slow river, fingering a shell, thinking: Once I was something like this, mindless. — Theodore Roethke, from “The Far Field.,” The Far Field. (Bantam Dell Pub Group (Trd); 1st US – 1st Printing edition September 1998)
I know. I was there. I saw the great void in your soul, and you saw mine. ― Sebastian Faulks, Birdsong. (Vintage; Reprint edition June 2, 1997) Originally published 1993.
How sad and bad and mad it was— But then, how it was sweet! — Robert Browning, from “Confessions,” The Poems of Browning: Volume Four: 1862 – 1871. Edited by John Woolford, Daniel Karlin, & Joseph Phelan. (Routledge May 12th 2014)
Some nights are made for torture, or reflection, or the savoring of loneliness. ― Poppy Z. Brite