“Dionysus Is A God Who Takes Human Form, A Powerful Male Who Looks Soft And Feminine, A Native Of Thebes

the poet paralyzed with fear lying in a hammock on a beautiful day—unhappy man in a happy world—does not suffer any less when he looks around him; he does not cease to suffer, he only ceases to try to understand.

Mary Ruefle, On Fear

Much has been said and written about the ‘haiku moment’ - that it blurs the distinction between ‘subject’ and ‘object’, ‘self’ and ‘other’; that in it the perception of the essential and accidental, of the beautiful and the ugly, disappears; that it reflects things are they are in themselves.

- Yoel Hoffman, Japanese Death Poems

“I am the ocean; the earth; whatever dies for you.”

— Alice Notley, from In The Pines: Poems; “The Black Trailor (A Noir Fiction),” (via loveage-moondream)

Anne Boleyn’s Tiny Golden Psalm Book - she’s said to have handed it to one of her Maid’s of Honour moments before she was executed in 1536. 

The pictures show a miniature of Henry Vlll on the left, with gothic cursive script on the facing page, and the gold tracery covers.

For his conversations about action (we have had more than one) are all descriptions of God

Anne Carson, Kinds of Water

the equable but confused light of a summer’s morning in which everything is seen but nothing is seen distinctly

- Virginia Woolf, Orlando

Blackhead and Sea, George Wesley Bellows, 1913

The darkness was more compassionate to his swollen and violent heart.

- Virginia Woolf, Orlando

there is also the waiting, the kind which has survived hundreds of tides and ebbs of hours...Take them along with my body.

Marzena Broda, [Come back to me...] tr. Regina Grol

What good is accuracy amidst the perpetual scattering that unspools the world.

Ada Limón, It’s The Season I Often Mistake