The secrets inside her mind are like flowers in a garden at nighttime, filling the darkness with perfume. — Fumiko Enchi, Masks. (Vintage; 1st Aventura ed edition, September 12, 1983) Originally published 1958.
The afternoon, grown wild with figs and hot murmurs, swoons and falls… And black angels were soaring through the western sky. Angels with long tresses and hearts of olive oil. — Federico García Lorca, “The Feud,” Romancero Gitano. (Agebe, March 2006) Originally published 1928.
I simply love that tinge of Botticellian pink, that raw rose about the lips, those wet, matted eyelashes… — Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita. (Olympia Press 1955)
And I, tiny being, drunk with the great starry void, likeness, image of mystery, felt myself a pure part of the abyss.” — Pablo Neruda, from “Poetry,” I Explain a Few Things: Selected Poems, transl. by Alastair Reid (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007)
The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death. — Oscar Wilde, Salomé. (Dover Publications; Unabridged edition, August 14, 2002) Originally published 1891.
Genesis According to George Segal The Spirit brooded on the water and made The earth, and molded us out of earth. And then The Spirit breathed Itself into our nostrils— And rested. What was the Spirit waiting for? An image of Its nature, a looking glass? Glass also made of dust,… Continue reading Robert Pinsky
The older we get the more we seem to think that everything was better in the past. ― Jun’ichirō Tanizaki