…The sky empties itself to a color, there, where yesterday’s puddle ...– James Schuyler, from The Crystal Lithium
5. Not that passion is deceitful or imaginary! It doesn’t lie. Simply, it doesn’t last! If only we could come into this world as though we were common people in love be sensible, see things as they are: this is just a hill, just a bump in the ground. (And yet they say it is by the pull of abysses, that you measure height.) In the heaps of gorse, colored dim among islands...
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter...– Khalil Gibran, from The Prophet
For me a poem often begins as a constellation of words coursing through my head...– Maggie Nelson, on writing, from this interview (via gildadavidian)
– Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions. (Rainer Maria Rilke)