Or, to believe it’s there within you though the key’s missing makes it enough? — Denise Levertov, from “Kingdoms of Heaven,” Poems, 1960-1967 (New Directions; First Edition edition, May 17, 1983) Advertisements
The more powerful and original a mind, the more it will incline towards the religion of solitude. — Aldous Huxley, Proper Studies. (Chatto & Windus; Collected ed edition, December 1949) Originally published 1927.
When does night fold its arms over our hearts to cherish them? — Denise Levertov, fron “That Passeth All Understanding,” Oblique Prayers: Poetry. (New Directions, New York, 1984)
Perhaps it’s good for one to suffer. Can an artist do anything if he’s happy? Would he ever want to do anything? What is art, after all, but a protest against the horrible inclemency of life? — Aldous Huxley, Antic Hay. (Kessinger Publishing May 2005) Originally published 1923.
Sometimes I wake up and lie still enough to hear a petal drop from the vase of flowers. Sometimes I lie awake and wish there was someone to hear my falling. ― Simon Van Booy, The Illusion of Separateness. (HarperCollins Publishers; 1st edition June 11, 2013)
Sometimes, language is the sound of longing. ― Simon Van Booy, The Secret Lives of People in Love. (Turtle Point Press; First Edition edition May 1, 2007)
Behind the corpse in the reservoir, behind the ghost on the links, Behind the lady who dances and the man who madly drinks, Under the look of fatigue the attack of migraine and the sigh There is always another story, there is more than meets the eye. — W.H. Auden, from “At Last the Secret… Continue reading W.H. Auden