Poetry · Collection · Anthology · Excerpt · Classic · The Beat Generation · Contemporary · American Literature · Passage · American Culture · The San Francisco Renaissance · Compilation

Kenneth Rexroth

Now I know surely and forever, However much I have blotted our Waking love, its memory is still There. And I know the web, the net, The blind and crippled bird. For then, for One brief instant it was not blind, nor Trapped, nor crippled. For one heart beat the Heart was free and moved… Continue reading Kenneth Rexroth

Rate this:

American Culture · American Literature · Anthology · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry · Romanticism · Transcendentalism

Emily Dickinson

To wait an Hour – is long – If Love be just beyond – To wait Eternity – is short – If Love reward the end – — Emily Dickinson, from “Fascicle Thirty-Nine, Sheet Four, early 1864,” Emily Dickinson’s Poems As She Preserved Them, ed. Christanne Miller (Belknap, 2016)

Rate this:

American Culture · American Literature · Anthology · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Poetry · Romanticism · Transcendentalism

Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers – That perches in the soul – And sings the tune without the words – And never stops – at all – And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard – And sore must be the storm – That could abash the little Bird That kept so many… Continue reading Emily Dickinson

Rate this:

Afro-Carribean Culture · Afro-Carribean Literature · Anthology · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Contemporary · Excerpt · French Culture · French Literature · Passage · Poetry

Aimé Césaire

Non-time imposes on time the tyranny of its spatiality: in every life there is a north and a south, and the orient and the occident. At the extreme limit or, at the least, at the crossroads, as one’s eyes fly over the seasons, there is the unequal struggle of life and death, of fervor and… Continue reading Aimé Césaire

Rate this:

Aesthetics · Anthology · British Culture · British Literature · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Correspondence · Excerpt · Irish Culture · Irish Literature · Letter · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote · Victorian

Oscar Wilde

The final mystery is oneself. When one has weighed the sun in the balance, and measured the steps of the moon, and mapped out the seven heavens star by star, there still remains oneself. Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul? — Oscar Wilde, ”De Profundis,” Originally published: 1905. De Profundis and Other… Continue reading Oscar Wilde

Rate this: