The din of the dusty world and the locked-in-ness of human habitation are what...– Kuo Hsi, Essay on Landscape Painting, 11thC.
Here I am, a bundle of past recollections and future dreams, knotted up in a...– Sylvia Plath (via flesh-of-burning-love)
What can be explained is not poetry.– W.B. Yeats (via silencedyouth)
Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too...– William Shakespeare, Sonnet 86
During the heavy months my life caught fire only when I made love with you....– Tomas Tranströmer, ‘Fire Script’, The Half-Finished Heaven, trans. Robert Bly.
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.– Samuel Beckett (via adrianoesteves)
Every person is a half-open door / leading to a room for everyone.– Tomas Tranströmer, from “The Half-Finished Heaven” (via crashinglybeautiful)
Imagination must dance, must be carried beyond feeling into the aboriginal ice.– Yeats, ‘A General Introduction for my Work’ (1937).