Quotes Tagged "life"

We are all of life who stepped from the sea trading weightless journeys of the currents We are all of life who build and tear down and build again to find gold and silver to find scars that weep and bleed to step from the sea to stay with the sea

Dear Life, I have been living alone for the last four years. I am familiar with my loneliness. And sometimes I feel like a soldier who can survive without love or poetry too! I am used to leading this hard life! Yours sincerely, Mr. Writer

I care for you, darling, I love you, the only reason I fucked L. is because you fucked Z. and then I fucked R. and you fucked N. and because you fucked N. I had to fuck Y. But I think of you constantly, I feel you here in my belly like a baby, love I'd call it, no matter what happens I'd call it love, and so you fucked C. and then before I could move you fucked W., so I had to fuck D. But I want you to know that I love you, I think of you constantly, I don't think I've ever loved anybody like I love you.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires, Now let us sport us while we may, And now, like amorous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour Than languish in his slow-chapt power.

A fool lies here who tried to hustle the East.

I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

This is freedom. This is the face of faith, nobody gets what they want. Never again are you the same. The longing is to be pure. What you get is to be changed. More and more by each glistening minute, through which infinity threads itself. Also oblivion, of course, the aftershocks of something at sea. Here hands full of sand, letting it sift through in the wind, I look in and say take this, hurry. And if I listen now? Listen, I was not saying anything. It was only something I did. I could not chose words. I am free to go. I cannot, of course, come back. Not to this. Never. It is a ghost posed on my lips. Here: never.

Faith is the poetry of our dreams; action is the builder of our reality.

When I shut my eyes on this world I'll finally have peace.

Song of myself A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt, Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose? Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.

Wer ein Theater füllen will, bedient sich der Dramaturgie. Um es zu leeren genügt Ideologie.

I am stuck in traffic in a taxicab which is typical and not just of modern life

Why do we write? A chorus erupts. Because we cannot simply live.

I hate forcing myself to go to bed to avoid committing suicide.

Walk a bit further. There is a different land not far away. The people in it have the magic to break the icy fingers of the great death. I heard that you don’t even have to pay. However, you have to find their door. It is only found by those who pay the other price.

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.

So since I'm still here livin', I guess I will live on. I could've died for love-- But for livin' I was born.

He could only consider me as the living corpse of a would-be suicide, a person dead to shame, an idiot ghost.

I never wanted to go away, and the hard part now is the leaving you all. I'm not afraid, but it seems as if I should be homesick for you even in heaven.

In the end, living is defined by dying.