British-American Culture · British-American Literature · Classic · Dystopian · Excerpt · Fiction · Novel · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote · Science Fiction

Aldous Huxley

Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn’t nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness… Continue reading Aldous Huxley

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry

Jan Heller Levi

We should have known. Should have known to leave well enough alone; we knew, and we didn’t. You said let’s put our cards on the table, your card was your body, the table my bed, where we didn’t get till 4 am, so tired from wanting what we shouldn’t that when we finally found our… Continue reading Jan Heller Levi

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American Culture · American Literature · Asian-American Culture · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry

Victoria Chang

Where you counsel me on lips and throat. Where / you love the hiss of my atom. Where the ocean is zero / miles from everywhere. Here, madness has no map. / Here, God is abridged. O to be loved this way. / To have lips that bear fruit. To be cancelled. — Victoria Chang,… Continue reading Victoria Chang

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry

Charles Wright

The afternoon Dissolves in my mouth, The landscape dwindles and whispers like rice through my dry fingers. Now twilight. Now the bereft bodies Of those who have never risen from the dead glide down Through the dwarf orchard And waver like candle flames                                                    under the peach trees and go out. — Charles Wright, from… Continue reading Charles Wright

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Argentine Culture · Argentine Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Poetry

Jorge Luis Borges

Sunset is always disturbing whether theatrical or muted, but still more disturbing is that last desperate glow that turns the plain to rust when on the horizon nothing is left of the pomp and clamor of the setting sun. How hard holding on to that light, so tautly drawn and different, that hallucination which the… Continue reading Jorge Luis Borges

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Anthology · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Decadent Movement · French Culture · French Literature · Poetry · Symbolism

Arthur Rimbaud

On the blue summer evenings, I will go along the paths, And walk over the short grass, as I am pricked by the wheat: Daydreaming I will feel the coolness on my feet. I will let the wind bathe my bare head. I will not speak, I will have no thoughts: But infinite love will… Continue reading Arthur Rimbaud

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