"Look, poet, love is never what we think it will be. Love is like a boy trying to rescue a drowned girl from the sea and falling in himself."
“Yes, but what a beautiful death. Oh I wish I had drowned. I wish I had drowned.”
“Love is two blind people sword-fighting, love is a queen on a desert island, love is a self-immolation, love is running scared in the dark, love is two people each of whose saliva is poison for the other, love is an empty house, a sunken boat, a crippled dancer.”
"For all of the most important things, the timing always sucks. Waiting for a good time to quit your job? The stars will never align and the traffic lights of life will never all be green at the same time. The universe doesn’t conspire against you, but it doesn’t go out of its way to line up the pins either. Conditions are never perfect. “Someday” is a disease that will take your dreams to the grave with you. Pro and con lists are just as bad. If it’s important to you and you want to do it “eventually,” just do it and correct course along the way."
Anne Sexton, reads Self In 1958
I am a plaster doll; I pose
with eyes that cut open without landfall or nightfall
upon some shellacked and grinning person,
eyes that open, blue, steel, and close.
Am I approximately an I. Magnin transplant?
"I love the one whose soul is overfull so that he forgets himself, and all things are in him; I love the one who has a free spirit and a free heart: thus his head is only the entrails of his heart, but his heart drives him to go under."
"They were at a party with friends, the room was lit with a soft glow from candles that littered the table; and warmed with the laughter of all who was there. For a moment, as everyone seemed to be swept away in the charm of the season, they looked at each other. She loved the glint in His eye, as if to say “I only see you.” and He loved the way She smiled, as if everything they had ever loved led to that moment. It was comforting to have that moment that they could call their own, it was almost too much. The years of wanting and waiting all seemed to wash away in the glow of present joy and friendship. Each smile that She sent Him seemed to remind Him of a future that had not happened yet, but would come to pass; and She saw it too, in that wonderful glint that came from His eyes, She saw happiness and love."
Uncompromising purpose and the search for eternal truth have an unquestionable sex appeal for the young and high-minded; but when a person loses the ability to take pleasure in the mundane— in the cigarette on the stoop or the gingersnap in the bath— she has probably put herself in unnecessary danger. What my father was trying to tell me, as he neared the conclusion of his own course, was that this risk should not be treated lightly: One must be prepared to fight for one’s simple pleasures and to defend them against elegance and erudition and all manner of glamorous enticements.