Monthly Archives: June 2020

Posted on June 17, 2020 | Comments Off on

Only thus, faithful to the moment, do we experience a life that is something other than a sum of moments. To the moment we respond, but we respond at the same time for it, we assume responsibility for it.

Martin Buber

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Posted in Martin Buber

Posted on June 17, 2020 | Comments Off on

Our faith comes in moments; our vice is habitual. Yet there is a depth in those brief moments which constrains us to ascribe more reality to them than to all other experiences.

Emerson

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Posted in Emerson

Posted on June 17, 2020 | Comments Off on

The planet turns there without you, beautiful.
Exiled by death you cannot
touch it. Weird joy to watch postulates

lived out and discarded, something crowded
inside us always craving to become something
glistening outside us, the relentless planet

showing itself the logic of what is
buried inside it. To love existence
is to love what is indifferent to you

you think, as you watch it turn there, beautiful.
World that can know itself only by
world, soon it must colonize and infect the stars.

You are a hypothesis made of flesh.
What you will teach the stars is constant
rage at the constant prospect of not-being.

•

Sometimes when I wake it’s because I hear
a knock. Knock,
Knock. Two
knocks, quite clear.

I wake and listen. It’s nothing.

Frank Bidart

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Posted in Frank Bidart

Posted on June 17, 2020 | Comments Off on

C’est ça l’écriture. C’est le train de l’écrit qui passe par votre corps. Le traverse. C’est de là qu’on part pour parler de ces émotions difficiles à dire, si étrangères et qui néanmoins, tout à coup, s’emparent de vous.

Duras

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Posted in Marguerite Duras

Posted on June 17, 2020 | Comments Off on

My God, this is a funny way to live. My God, how did this happen?

Jean Rhys

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Posted in Jean Rhys

Posted on June 17, 2020 | Comments Off on

Nothing is more charming than suddenly to come across something sharp and fresh after we’ve thought there was nothing more that could draw from us a groan. We’ve supposed we’ve had it all, have squeezed the last impression out of the last disappointment, penetrated to the last familiarity in the last surprise; then some fine day we find that we haven’t done justice to life. There are little things that pop up and make us feel again. What may happen is after all incalculable. There’s just a little chuck of the dice, and for three minutes we win.

Henry James

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Posted in Henry James

Posted on June 17, 2020 | Comments Off on

When I hear modern people complain of being lonely then I know what has happened. They have lost the cosmos. – It is nothing human and personal that we are short of.

D.H. Lawrence

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Posted in D.H. Lawrence, Writing

Posted on June 17, 2020 | Comments Off on

Once again let it be your morning, gods.
We keep repeating. You alone are source.
With you the world arises, and your dawn
gleams on each crack and crevice of our failure…

Rilke

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Posted in rilke

Posted on June 17, 2020 | Comments Off on

How we squander our hours of pain.
How we gaze beyond them into the bitter duration
to see if they have an end. Though they are really our winter-enduring foliage, our dark evergreen,
one season in our inner year.

Rilke

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Posted in rilke

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Rilke

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Posted on June 17, 2020 in rilke