When I close a book I open life.– Pablo Neruda, Ode to the Book - I, translation by Nathaniel Tarn (Thank you, arsvitaest)
The true poem rests between the words.– Vanna Bonta, novelist and poet (Thank you, A Poet Reflects & Silence Sounds). (via crashinglybeautiful)
Why do I write?
crashinglybeautiful: I write because to write a new sentence, let alone a new poem, is to cross the threshold into both a larger existence and a profound mystery. A thought was not there, then it is. An image, a story, an idea about what it is to be human, did not exist, then it does. With every new poem, an emotion new to the heart, to the world, speaks itself into being. Any new metaphor is a...
It was a curiosity to her that you could give up memories and yet in the giving...– Liam’s Going, Michael Joyce, p. 182