No weekends for the gods now. Warsflicker, earth licks its open sores,fresh breakage, fresh promotions, chanceassassinations, no advance.Only man thinning out his own kindsounds through the Sabbath no...
What we love we are.
EB: 'Ll showed me a long verse-letter, very obscene, he’d received from Dylan T[Thomas] before D’s last trip here [New York]—very clever, but it really can’t be published for a long, long time, he’s d...
The light at the end of the tunnel is just the light of an oncoming train.
I do think free will is sewn into everything we do; you can't cross a street, light a cigarette, drop saccharine in your coffee without really doing it. Yet the possible alternatives that life allows...
Sylvia PlathA miniature mad talent? Sylvia Plath,who'll wipe off the spit of your integrity,rising in the saddle to slash at Auschwitz,life tearing this or that, I am a woman?Who'll lay the graduate g...