If you must suffer, suffer nobly. Love, laugh through your tears, or cry, create and perhaps, perish. —Allen Ginsberg, The Book of Martyrdom and Artifice. (Da Capo Press; Reprint edition February 5, 2008)
But there is a third mode of trancendence: in it language simply ceases, and the motion of spirit gives no further outward manifestation of its being. The poet enters into silence. Here the word borders not on radiance or music, but on night. — George Steiner, from “Silence and the Poet,” Language and Silence: Essays… Continue reading George Steiner
I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other. ― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet. (Dover Publications May 8, 2002) Originally published 1929.
Dedication to The Seven Pillars of Wisdom I loved you, so I drew these tides of Men into my hands And wrote my will across the Sky and stars To earn you freedom, the seven Pillared worthy house, That your eyes might be Shining for me When we came Death seemed my servant on the… Continue reading T.E. Lawrence
I would like to explode, flow, crumble into dust, and my disintegration would be my masterpiece. — Emil M. Cioran, On The Heights Of Despair. (University Of Chicago Press; 1 edition October 1, 1996)
Eros is an issue of boundaries. He exists because certain boundaries do. In the interval between reach and grasp, between glance and counterglance, between ‘I love you’ and ‘I love you too,’ the absent presence of desire comes alive. But the boundaries of time and glance and I love you are only aftershocks of the… Continue reading Anne Carson
I’m lonely. And I’m lonely in some horribly deep way and for a flash of an instant, I can see just how lonely, and how deep this feeling runs. And it scares the shit out of me to be this lonely because it seems catastrophic. ― Augusten Burroughs, Dry. (St. Martin’s Press June 2003)