I am worn out with dreams; — W. B. Yeats, from “Men Improve with the Years,” The Wild Swans At Coole. (Kessinger Publishing, LLC, June 17, 2004) Originally published 1919. Advertisements
I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it griev’d my heart to think What man has made of man. —… Continue reading William Wordsworth
There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. —Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo. . (Penguin Classics; Reissue edition May 27, 2003) Originally published 1844.
ix nearer: breath of my breath: take not thy tingling limbs from me: make my pain their crazy meal letting thy tigers of smooth sweetness steal slowly in dumb blossoms of new mingling: deeper: blood of my blood: with upwardcringing swiftness plunge these leopards of white dream in the glad flesh of my fear: more… Continue reading E. E. Cummings
The soul grows by subtraction, not addition. — Henry David Thoreau
These are the days that must happen to you. — Walt Whitman, from “Song of the Open Road,” Leaves of Grass. Originally published: July 4, 1855.
How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; — W. B. Yeats, from “When You Are Old,” The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats. Edited by Richard J. Finneran, (Scribner,… Continue reading W. B. Yeats