I deliberately spilled the black ink of despair because my perfect soul was a stained glass illusion – can you understand that? ― John Geddes, A Familiar Rain. (Chinook Publishing, April 1st 2011) Advertisements
Some stones are so heavy only silence helps you carry them! ― Anne Michaels, Fugitive Pieces. (McClelland & Stewart, 1996)
The stars appear one by one like small songs, like small terrors rattling bright in their cages. — Laura Lush, from “Stars,” Blues & True Concussions: Six New Toronto Poets (Anansi, 1997)
To taste the salt of the stars in the sea. To love another more than oneself. To know this is to know everything. — Anne Michaels, from “Ask Aloud,” All We Saw (Alfred A. Knopf, 2017)
To be running breathlessly, but not yet arrived, is itself delightful, a suspended moment of living hope. — Anne Carson, Eros: The Bittersweet. (Dalkey Archive Press; 1st Dalkey Archive ed edition, March 1, 1998) Originally published 1986.
I wouldn’t want to marry anybody who was wicked, but I think I’d like it if he could be wicked and wouldn’t. ― L. M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island. (Bantam Books, December 1, 1983) Originally published 1915.
This year we are making nothing but elegies. Do what you are good at, our parents always told us, make what you know. This is what we are making, these songs for the dying. You have to celebrate something. —Margaret Atwood, from “Four Small Elegies,” Two-Headed Poems. (Simon & Schuster March 9, 1981)