I'm always amazed at the American practice of allowing one party to a homosexual act to remain passive--it's so undemocratic. Sexmust be mutual.
Hemingway is terribly limited. His technique is good for short stories, for people who meet once in a bar very late at night, but do not enter into relations. But not for the novel.
I used to try and concentrate the poem so much that there wasn't a word that wasn't essential. This leads to becoming boring and constipated.
From beginning to end Wilde performed his life and continued to do so even after fame had taken the plot out of his own hands.
Herds of reindeer move across Miles and miles of golden moss
The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews Not to be born is the best for man The second best is a formal order The dance's pattern, dance while you can. Dance, dance, for the figure is easy The tune is catching and will not stop Dance till the stars come down from the rafters Dance, dance, dance till you drop.
Behind the corpse in the reservoir, behind the ghost on the links, Behind the lady who dances and the man who madly drinks, Under the look of fatigue, the attack of migraine and the sigh There is always another story, there is more than meets the eye.
Behind you swiftly the figure comes softly, The spot on your skin is a shocking disease.
The habit-forming pain, Mismanagement and grief: We must suffer them all again.
the child unlucky in his little State, Some hearth where freedom is excluded, A hive whose honey is fear and worry, Feels calmer now and somehow assured of escape
Accurate scholarship can unearth the whole offence from luther untill noe that has driven a culture mad. From what occured at linz what huge imago made a psychopathic god. i and the public know what all schoolchildren learn those to whom evil is done do evil in return.
Doom is dark and deeper than any sea-dingle.
All the literati keep An imaginary friend.
You will be a poet because you will always be humiliated.
Intellectual disgrace Stares from every human face, And the seas of pity lie Locked and frozen in each eye.
Those to whom evil is doneDo evil in return.
But he would have us most of all remember to be enthusiastic over the night. Not only for the sense of wonder it alone has to offer but also because it needs our love. For with sad eyes its delectable creatures look up and beg us dumbly to ask them to follow. They are exiles who long for a future that lies in our power.
The countenances of children, like those of animals, are masks, not faces, for they have not yet developed a significant profile of their own.
Beloved, we are always in the wrong, Handling so clumsily our stupid lives, Suffering too little or too long, Too careful even in our selfish loves: The decorative manias we obey Die in grimaces round us every day, Yet through their tohu-bohu comes a voice Which utters an absurd command - Rejoice.
Murder is commoner among cooks than among members of any other profession.
To ask the hard question is simple.
The relation of faith between subject and object is unique in every case. Hundreds may believe, but each has to believe by himself.
Death is the sound of distant thunder at a picnic.
Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry.
Like love we don't know where or why Like love we cant compel or fly Like Love we often weep Like Love we seldom keep
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