What I remember of the day: soft rain; and the touch of our fingertips’ shy coupling… and the sweet intimacy of our pilgrimage over broken ground and the way you listened with your body leaning into my voice and hearing so deeply far deeper than words the tender heart-beat of unspoken things. — Barbara Grenfell… Continue reading Barbara Grenfell Fairhead
When you write, you should put your skin on the table. ― Louis-Ferdinand Céline, Journey to the End of the Night. (New Directions; Reprint edition, May 17, 2006) Originally published 1932.
We live in the flicker — may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling! But darkness was here yesterday. — Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness. (Blackwood’s Magazine 1899 serial; 1902 book) Originally published 1899.
There are always mystical countries that are a part of one’s childhood. Those we remember and visit sometimes when we are asleep and dreaming. They are as lovely at night as they were when we were children. If you ever go back to see them they are not there. But they are as fine in… Continue reading Ernest Hemingway,
The soul is the weariest part of the body. ―Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky. (Penguin Books June 1, 2007) Originally published 1949.
Do you see the story? Do you see anything? It seems to me I am trying to tell you a dream–making a vain attempt, because no relation of a dream can convey the dream-sensation, that commingling of absurdity, surprise, and bewilderment in a tremor of struggling revolt, that notion of being captured by the incredible… Continue reading Joseph Conrad
I’m a candle flame that sways in currents of air you can’t see. You need to be the one who steadies me to burn. — Nadine Gordimer, The House Gun. (Trafalgar Square; First Edition edition February 18, 1999)