I strike out at twilight and get back by dawn […] I’m nothing but a rope of smoke tied around the stars — Frank Stanford, from “Desperate Song of One Who Has Gotten Rid of Some of Himself,” What About This: Collected Poems of Frank Stanford (Copper Canyon Press, 2015)
… when she became not then half of memory became not and if I become not then all of remembering will cease to be.—Yes, he thought, between grief and nothing I will take grief. — William Faulkner, from “Wild Plains,” If I Forget Thee, Jerusalem. (HarperPerennial Classics June 4, 2013) Originally published 1939.
Time is the longest distance between two places. ― Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie. (New Directions; Some Pages Turned Down, Name on Side edition June 17, 1999) Originally published 1945.
Where you come from is gone, where you thought you were going to was never there, and where you are is no good unless you can get away from it. Where is there a place for you to be? No place… Nothing outside you can give you any place… In yourself right now is all… Continue reading Flannery O’Connor
You see, I was that sun, or thought I was who did believe there was that spark, that crumb in madness which is divine, though madness know no word itself for terror or for pity. — William Faulkner, Absalom, Absalom! (Vintage; Reissue edition November 1990) Originally published 1936.
What is straight? A line can be straight, or a street, but the human heart, oh, no, it’s curved like a road through mountains. ― Tennessee Williams, A Streetcar Named Desire. Dramatists Play Service, Inc.; unknown edition January 1998) Originally published 1947. Premiered Ethel Barrymore Theatre, New York City, New York December 3, 1947.
Remember her hair in the morning before it was pinned, black, rampant, savage with loveliness. As if she slept in perpetual storm. — Cormac Mccarthy, Suttree. (Vintage May 5, 1992) Originally published May 1979.