Clara Louise > Clara's Quotes

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  • #1
    Charles Wright
    “How many years have slipped through our hands?
At least as many as the constellations we still can identify.
The quarter moon, like a light skiff,
                                                         floats out of the mist-remnants
Of last night’s hard rain.
It, too, will slip through our fingers
                                                        with no ripple, without us in it.”
    Charles Wright

  • #2
    Fernando Pessoa
    “I'd woken up early, and I took a long time getting ready to exist.”
    Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

  • #3
    Doris Lessing
    “Ideally, what should be said to every child, repeatedly, throughout his or her school life is something like this: 'You are in the process of being indoctrinated. We have not yet evolved a system of education that is not a system of indoctrination. We are sorry, but it is the best we can do. What you are being taught here is an amalgam of current prejudice and the choices of this particular culture. The slightest look at history will show how impermanent these must be. You are being taught by people who have been able to accommodate themselves to a regime of thought laid down by their predecessors. It is a self-perpetuating system. Those of you who are more robust and individual than others will be encouraged to leave and find ways of educating yourself — educating your own judgements. Those that stay must remember, always, and all the time, that they are being moulded and patterned to fit into the narrow and particular needs of this particular society.”
    Doris Lessing, The Golden Notebook

  • #4
    Eve Ensler
    “You have to give to the world the thing that you want the most, in order to fix the broken parts inside you.”
    Eve Ensler

  • #5
    Frank O'Hara
    “oh god it’s wonderful
    to get out of bed
    and drink too much coffee
    and smoke too many cigarettes
    and love you so much”
    Frank O'Hara

  • #6
    Andrea Gibson
    “I want you to tell me about every person you've ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn't think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mothers name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mothers joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you've been unkind. Tell me all the ways you've been cruel.Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin? Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea? And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me, how would you explain the miracle of my life to me? And for all the times you've knelt before the temple of yourself, have the prayers you've asked come true? And if they didn't did you feel denied? And if you felt denied, denied by who[m]? I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling good. I wanna know what you see in the mirror on a day a day you’re feeling bad. I wanna know the first person who ever taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass. If you ever reach enlightenment, will you remember how to laugh? Have you ever been a song? See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds. And if you dream sometimes that this life is just a balloon that if you wanted to you could pop—but you never would because you’d never want it to stop.”
    Andrea Gibson

  • #7
    Anaïs Nin
    “I had a feeling that Pandora's box contained the mysteries of woman's sensuality, so different from a man's and for which man's language was so inadequate. The language of sex had yet to be invented. The language of the senses was yet to be explored.”
    Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus

  • #8
    Sylvia Plath
    “I?
    I walk alone;
    The midnight street
    Spins itself from under my feet;
    My eyes shut
    These dreaming houses all snuff out;
    Through a whim of mine
    Over gables the moon's celestial onion
    Hangs high.

    I
    Make houses shrink
    And trees diminish
    By going far; my look's leash
    Dangles the puppet-people
    Who, unaware how they dwindle,
    Laugh, kiss, get drunk,
    Nor guess that if I choose to blink
    They die.

    I
    When in good humour,
    Give grass its green
    Blazon sky blue, and endow the sun
    With gold;
    Yet, in my wintriest moods, I hold
    Absolute power
    To boycott color and forbid any flower
    To be.

    I
    Know you appear
    Vivid at my side,
    Denying you sprang out of my head,
    Claiming you feel
    Love fiery enough to prove flesh real,
    Though it's quite clear
    All your beauty, all your wit, is a gift, my dear,
    From me.

    "Soliloquy of the Solipsist", 1956”
    Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems

  • #9
    Dylan Thomas
    “[I'm]a freak user of words, not a poet.”
    Dylan Thomas

  • #10
    Dylan Thomas
    “Poetry is not the most important thing in life... I'd much rather lie in a hot bath reading Agatha Christie and sucking sweets.”
    Dylan Thomas

  • #11
    Dylan Thomas
    “Dark is a way and light is a place,
    Heaven that never was
    Nor will be ever is always true
    "Poem on His Birthday”
    Dylan Thomas

  • #12
    Sylvia Plath
    “I Am Vertical

    But I would rather be horizontal.
    I am not a tree with my root in the soil
    Sucking up minerals and motherly love
    So that each March I may gleam into leaf,
    Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed
    Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,
    Unknowing I must soon unpetal.
    Compared with me, a tree is immortal
    And a flower-head not tall, but more startling,
    And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.

    Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars,
    The trees and flowers have been strewing their cool odors.
    I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.
    Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping
    I must most perfectly resemble them--
    Thoughts gone dim.
    It is more natural to me, lying down.
    Then the sky and I are in open conversation,
    And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:
    The the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.

    "I Am Vertical", 28 March 1961”
    Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems



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