Don’t forget – no one else sees the world the way you do, so no one else can tell the stories that you have to tell. — Charles de Lint, The Blue Girl. (Firebird; Reprint edition April 6, 2006) Advertisements
All day I have written words: My subject has been that. Words. And I am wrong. And the words. I burn Three pages of them. Words. And the moon, moonlight, that too I burn. —A poem remains. But in the words, in the words In the fire that is now words. I eat the… Continue reading Robert Sward
But who can remember pain, once it’s over? All that remains of it is a shadow, not in the mind even, in the flesh. Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind. — Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale. (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, April 25, 2017) Originally published 1985.
Sometimes, solitude is worse than hunger. — Dany Laferrière, from A Drifting Year. (Coach House Pr, September 1996) Originally published 1994.
I’ve come home in love with loneliness. — L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea (Anne of Green Gables #2). Bantam Books, July 1, 1984. Originally published 1909.
So her ceiling a map of stars. First time we made love late afternoon late winter, and after she slept how her room fogged up with dusk and paper stars she’d stuck up there in childhood came out in strange constellations and I missed the earth till her room was night her breath deepening the… Continue reading Steven Heighton
A Kite Is a Victim A kite is a victim you are sure of. You love it because it pulls gentle enough to call you master, strong enough to call you fool; because it lives like a desperate trained falcon in the high sweet air, and you can always haul it down to tame it… Continue reading Leonard Cohen