[But, should you grow to hate me, I would ask No mercy of your mood: I’d have you stand And look me in the eyes, and laugh, and smite me. Then I should know, at least, that truth endured, Though love had died of wounds.] And you could leave me Unvanquished in my atmosphere of… Continue reading Siegfried Sassoon
Let’s not talk about how I am. It’s a subject I know too much about to want to think about anymore. — Ernest Hemingway, from “A Way You’ll Never Be,” Winner Take Nothing. (Scribner; 1 edition, January 1, 1966)
You can’t get away from yourself by moving from one place to another. — Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises (Scribner, 1926)
I am more sensitive than other people. Things that other people would not notice awaken a distinct echo in me, and in such moments of lucidity, when I look at myself, I see that I am alone, all alone, all alone. — Henri Barbusse, THE INFERNO ** UNDER FIRE ** LIGHT (Timeless Wisdom Collection) Business… Continue reading Henri Barbusse
I know. I was there. I saw the great void in your soul, and you saw mine. ― Sebastian Faulks, Birdsong. (Vintage; Reprint edition June 2, 1997) Originally published 1993.
Between the desire And the spasm Between the potency And the existence Between the essence And the descent Falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom — T. S. Eliot, from “The Hollow Men,” Poems: 1909–1925. (Goldberg Press March 15, 2007) Originally published November 23rd 1925.
Just before I bedded down I stood at the window. And he was right–the first breath of autumn was in the air, a prodigal feeling, a feeling of wanting, taking, and keeping before it is too late. — J. L. Carr, A Month in the Country. (NYRB Classics; First Edition edition October 31, 2000) Originally… Continue reading J. L. Carr
All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake up in the day to find it was vanity, but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible. ― T.E. Lawrence, Seven Pillars… Continue reading T.E. Lawrence
‘I, too, am going to go away soon,’ she says, ‘I am weary and weary of my weariness. Everything is beginning to be a little empty and full of leave-taking and melancholy and waiting.’ ― Erich Maria Remarque, The Black Obelisk. (Random House 1998)