“I dig old books.” ™
Quotes That Make You Go Hmmm...
Welcome to my page of mind-bending quotations. Imagine if you will... it is early 1991 and as a teenager I spend countless hours dancing in my bedroom to the new
I will pass through the furnace whose firebrands mark my soul. ~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), My Little Book of Prayer, 1904
Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm. ~William Wordsworth
You can owe nothing, if you give back its light to the sun. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
the high cost of
living isnt so bad if you
dont have to pay for it
~Don Marquis, archy and mehitabel
Take the so-called standard of living. What do most people mean by "living"? They don’t mean living. They mean the latest and closest plural approximation to singular prenatal passivity which science, in its finite but unbounded wisdom, has succeeded in selling their wives. ~e.e. cummings, Introduction, Poems, 1954
You’re only as sick as your secrets. ~Author Unknown
the sound a wound makes?
~John Montague (b.1929), from "Sound of a Wound"
Those who gave away their wings are sad not to see them fly. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
All that we know is nothing, we are merely crammed waste-paper baskets, unless we are in touch with that which laughs at all our knowing. ~D.H. Lawrence, "Peace and War," Pansies, 1929
She throws her coin into a fountain already filled with hopeful coins, yet wonders if the wishes might become tangled. ~Dr. SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
~T.S. Eliot, 1943
The beginning of all wisdom is to look fixedly on clothes, or even with armed eyesight, till they become transparent. ~Thomas Carlyle
I believe if I should die, and you were to walk near my grave, from the very depths of the earth I would hear your footsteps. ~Benito Perez Galdos
She is a perfect and beautiful plant,
I am the nebulous chaos of yore.
~Florence Percy (Elizabeth Anne Chase Akers Allen, 1832–1911), "Two," Forest Buds, from the Woods of Maine, 1855
You are sad because they abandon you and you have not fallen. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
I wandered one night out over the brink of eternity.... "Open and let me in," I cried. "'Tis a weary pilgrim, a lost soul.... The life-boat is for the storm-tossed ship, and so is the signal light in the harbor, and this — this is the wreck of a soul crying for the life-line!"
The gates swung open. I awoke and went out again into the world of men, and all day I sang at my work. ~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), My Little Book of Prayer, 1904
Another way of approaching the thing is to consider it unnamed, unnamable. ~Francis Ponge
Invent a past for the present. ~Daniel Stern
My great day came and went, I do not know how. Because it did not pass through dawn when it came, nor through dusk when it went. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
Some Passages from a Journal That Was Never Kept ~Sharpe's London Magazine, 1848
Between the figure and the shadow is where all the secret energy lies. ~Terri Guillemets
Nothing is not only nothing. It is also our prison. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
A hunter of shadows, himself a shade. ~Homer
The only interesting answers are those which destroy the questions. ~Susan Sontag
Within your lifetime will, perhaps,
As souvenirs from distant suns
Be carried back to earth some maps
Of planets and you’ll find that one’s
So hard to color that you’ve got
To use five crayons. Maybe, not.
~Marlow Sholander, "Maybe"
I spend the nights awake searching my soul and my days chasing dreams in the wind. ~Terri Guillemets
You have your brush, you have your colors, you paint paradise, then in you go. ~Nikos Kazantzakis
Everything is a miracle. It is a miracle that one does not dissolve in one’s bath like a lump of sugar. ~Pablo Picasso
Flowers weaved into your hair and stars trapped inside your mind. ~Harold, nighttimesuggestions.tumblr.com
I sit at my window gazing
The world passes by, nods to me
And is gone.
No matter how fast light travels it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it. ~Terry Pratchett
I wish I could have known earlier that you have all the time you’ll need right up to the day you die. ~William Wiley
If we dance amongst the rooftops, is it not that much further to jig into the starshine? ~Terri Guillemets
I am the vessel. The draft is God’s. And God is the thirsty one. ~Dag Hammarskjold, Markings, 1964
If I answer the stranger at my gate while my own cry within, — perhaps my own is at the gate, and the strangers are within. ~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), My Little Book of Life, 1912
The first step... shall be to lose the way. ~Galway Kinnell
[Y]ears of quiet bliss
To me, fast-rooted on paternal land,
Mated, yet childless. He had journeyed far
Beyond the borders of my life...
~Bayard Taylor, "First Evening"
I am the universe's harlot,
Selling myself to ecstasy's thrills;
Giving myself to be debauched of stars, ravished of ineffableness;
Seduced by a wanton ungraspableness;
Coming to marriage bed with infinity's horde,
Wanton wife of the eternity of things.
~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), "Creation Songs: VIII," A Soul's Faring, 1921
Life is life, and death is life, and everything in between. ~Terri Guillemets
I am the dreamer on the edge of his dream. ~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), My Little Book of Life, 1912
I am... the potency-thrill. I am the fructifier meeting the urge of space, scattering my spawn like the dust of stars in the Milky Way. I am... the yearning. ~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), "Creation Songs: VI," A Soul's Faring, 1921
Ask, mournful Muse, by one alone inspired:
What change? am I less fond, or thou less fair?
Or is it, that thy mounting soul is tired
Of duteous homage and religious care?
~William Johnson Cory (1823–1892), "Amavi"
Psychoanalysis and Zen, in my private psychic geometry, are equal to nicotine. They are anti-existential. Nicotine quarantines one out of existence. ~Norman Mailer
The Great Way has no gate.
Clear water has no taste.
The tongue has no bone.
In complete stillness, a stone girl is dancing.
If a man could pass through Paradise in a dream, and have a flower presented to him as a pledge that his soul had really been there, and if he found that flower in his hand when he awake — Aye, what then? ~Samuel Taylor Coleridge
He who does not fill his world with phantoms remains alone. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
...and leave wishes to those foolish enough to make them. ~Terri Guillemets
Strickland had burst the bonds that hitherto had held him. He had found, not himself, as the phrase goes, but a new soul with unsuspected powers.... a spirituality, troubling and new, which led the imagination along unsuspected ways, and suggested dim empty spaces, lit only by the eternal stars, where the soul, all naked, adventured fearful to the discovery of new mysteries. ~W. Somerset Maugham, The Moon and Sixpence, 1919
The understanding of my life
Costs a dollar ninety-nine
But all I've got to spend
Is a pocketful of pesos.
I am the Love Cactus. Make desert to me. ~Jarod Kintz, My love can only occupy one person at a time
I would go to heaven, but I would take my hell; I would not go alone. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
It's hard to categorize the half expressions, the ones which reside in between. But this morning, I'm calling Perry mad by sadwest. ~Edmond Manning, King Perry
I do not incline my ear at the door of tombs — I listen at the roots of grasses.
I do not question dusty tomes — I ask the stars.
Parchment has no meaning to me — I ask my living, quivering breath.
~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), "At the Roots of Grasses: I," At the Roots of Grasses, 1923
A naked lunch is natural to us,
we eat reality sandwiches
But allegories are so much lettuce.
Don’t hide the madness.
~Allen Ginsberg, "On Burroughs’ Work"
The devil needs no convincing of the poison in your elixir. But did you really think you had medicine? ~Terri Guillemets
Love, she said, should be said more slowly, and ran from the house. Words could not catch her as such. Honesty is so slow, that is the trouble. ~Author Unknown
She lit my soul and inhaled deeply
Flicking my ashes occasionally
Finally, she ground me out...
I do not utter littlenesses — I speak a skyline or an ant-hill.
I speak big things, that measure up to big trees and little grasses; great things, like God and daffodils; stupendous things, like ages and a moment.
~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), "At the Roots of Grasses: XV," At the Roots of Grasses, 1923
They have stopped deceiving you, not loving you. And it seems to you that they have stopped loving you. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
Her asterisks are daft, postscripts redundant, and prose parenthetical. ~Terri Guillemets
It is known that there is an infinite number of worlds, but that not every one is inhabited. Therefore, there must be a finite number of inhabited worlds. Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds, so if every planet in the Universe has a population of zero then the entire population of the Universe must also be zero, and any people you may actually meet from time to time are merely the products of a deranged imagination. ~Douglas Adams, The Original Hitchhiker Radio Script
I see walking bombs on the street
Hearts not beating, but ticking...
Learning is not easy, but hard; culture is severe. The steps to Parnassus are steep and terribly arduous. ~John Jay Chapman
I come with my rendered life.
I carry burdens: I lift mountains with a song.
I dig ditches — furrows to the moon and trenches to the Milky Way.
~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), "Songs of the Strong: XXX" A Soul's Faring, 1921
He who holds me by a thread is not strong; the thread is strong. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
Alas! must it ever be so?
Do we stand in our own light, wherever we go,
And fight our own shadows forever?
~Edward Robert Bulwer Lytton
I dipped my brush in venom — and to the discerning I but portrayed myself. ~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), My Little Book of Prayer, 1904
When cherry blossoms fall onto you, don't wipe them away — close your eyes and have cherry blossom dreams! ~Terri Guillemets
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
~Robert Frost, "The Road Not Taken," 1916
You think you are killing me. I think you are committing suicide. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered. ~Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
It's like the craziest patient at the insane asylum running the place because he's the most "qualified." ~Terri Guillemets
It is half dawn and half dark
and in my drunken dreams I smell flowers and hear a skylark...
~Yuan Zhen, translated
You purchase pain with all that joy can give, and die of nothing but a rage to live. ~Alexander Pope
I don't know,
It's thirds and thirds and thirds again
That makes us whole...
My heaviness comes from the heights. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
We dance round in a ring and suppose,
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.
~Robert Frost, In the Clearing, 1962
I have figured for you the distance between the horns of a dilemma, night and day, and A and Z. I have computed how far is Up, how long it takes to get Away, and what becomes of Gone. I have discovered the length of the sea serpent, the price of priceless, and the square of the hippopotamus. I know where you are when you are at Sixes and Sevens, how much Is you have to have to make an Are, and how many birds you can catch with the salt in the ocean — 187,796,132, if it would interest you. ~James Thurber, Many Moons
An elegant poet I am not —
I write poetry as a man slips on a banana peel.
But fate must call on mediocrity as well as genius,
And fruit as well as nuts.
If you come to a fork in the road, take it. ~Yogi Berra
I am the cry of the nebula to become a star, the stream following its dream to the sea...
I am the moment of time calling to infinity.
~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), "Songs of Longing: I," At the Roots of Grasses, 1923
My whole life is waiting for the questions to which I have prepared answers. ~Tom Stoppard