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Just two lines, really... [10 Mar 2008|11:47am]

From "And Death Shall Have No Dominion" by Dylan Thomas. I watched Solaris last night and these lines were repeated several times. I love them.

Though lovers be lost, love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.

If you want, you can read the whole poem under the cut.

and death shall have no dominionCollapse )

That's all. :)
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sunday -- james schuyler [07 Oct 2007|04:42pm]

The mint bed is in
bloom: lavender haze
day. The grass is
more than green and
throws up sharp and
cutting lights to
slice through the
plane tree leaves. And
on the cloudless blue
I scribble your name.
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[06 Sep 2006|07:00pm]

"But one has to make some sort of choice," said Harriet. "And between one desire and another, how is one to know which things are really of overmastering importance?"

"We can only know that," said Miss de Vine, "when they have overmastered us."

--Dorothy L Sayers, Gaudy Night
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The introvert's mating call [07 Aug 2006|10:29am]

"Don't talk to me. Don't speak to me. Stay with me."

from Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett
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Late Prayer [Jane Hirshfield] [28 Jul 2006|11:23pm]

Tenderness does not choose its own uses.
It goes out to everything equally,
circling rabbit and hawk.
Look: in the iron bucket,
a single nail, a single ruby--
all the heavens and hells.
They rattle in the heart and make one sound.
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Ode to Joy [Miroslav Holub] [31 May 2006|05:11pm]

You only love
when you love in vain.

Try another radio probe
when ten have failed,
take two hundred rabbits
when a hundred have died:
only this is science.

You ask the secret.
It has just one name:
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Modestly [Pablo Neruda] [21 May 2006|06:41pm]

We are supposed to know certain common
virtues, vestments for each day of the week
that we see so often they become invisible
and do not surrender us to the mysterious,
to the fire swallower or the spider woman.

Without doubt I praise the wild excellence,
the old fashioned reverence, the natural see,
the economy of sublime truths that cling
to rock upon rock in succeeding generations,
like certain mollusks who conquered the sea.

We are all the people, the gray links
of lives that repeat themselves until death,
and we never wear unfitting uniforms, no precise tears:
it's proper that we communicate, have clean love, pure bread,
soccer, side streets with garbage in the doorways,
the dogs with complacent tails, the juice of a lemon
with the arrival of the peaceful fish.

I ask permission to be like everybody else,
like the rest of the world and what's more, like anybody else:
I beg you, with all my heart,
if we are talking about me, since we are talking about me,
please resist blasting the trumpet during my visit
and resign yourselves to my quiet absence.
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Love song. [08 May 2006|09:22pm]

You are in love with me, I shall make you perplexed.

Do not build much, for I intend to have you in ruins. If you build two hundred houses in a manner that the bees do; I shall make you as homeless as a fly. If you are the mount Qaf in stability, I shall make you whirl like a millstone.

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[26 Apr 2006|05:49pm]

[ mood | calm ]

from The Hollow Men by T.S. Eliot -- a favorite of mine

Here we go round the prickly pear...Collapse )

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Lines from Wedding Wind [Philip Larkin] [28 Feb 2006|09:37pm]

The wind blew all my wedding-day
And my wedding-night was the night of the high wind;
And a stable door was banging, again and again,
That he must go and shut it, leaving me
Stupid in candlelight, hearing rain,
Seeing my face in the twisted candlestick,
Yet seeing nothing. When he came back
He said the horses were restless, and I was sad
That any man or beast that night should lack the happiness I had.
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lines by Rumi [24 Feb 2006|01:09am]

The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you,
not knowing how blind I was.
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.
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For leestone [13 Feb 2006|11:08pm]

Here are the lyrics to the song I was telling you about tonight. It's a beautiful, beautiful song--really you need to listen to it to get a proper sense of its beauty, despite the amazing lyrics, and I say that who do not claim to be a Whiskeytown fan.

Jacksonville Skyline
by Whiskeytown

The banks of the river run through my hometown
As a boy I ran the dirt roads, and I scraped my knees
Well they paved the roads eventually
With neon signs and car dealerships and diners

The soldiers filled the hotels on the weekends
I saw the pretty women as I walked through town

Well, I moved away soon as I turned sixteen
Figured I was old enough to go and work a job
And I floated down main street, pools of car lights
Overcame me wishing I was still back home

The soldiers filled the hotels on the weekends
I saw the pretty women as I walked through town

Well, Jacksonville's a city with a hopeless streetlight
Seems like you're lucky if it ever changed from red to green
I was born in an abundance of inherited sadness
And fifty-cent picture frames bought at a five and dime

I ended up a soldier on the weekend
Looking for a vacancy I'm unable to find
Somewhere the night sky hangs like a blanket
I shoot it with my cap gun just to make it
Seem like starlight
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Lines from Man Carrying Thing [Wallace Stevens] [06 Feb 2006|07:18pm]

We must endure our thoughts all night, until
The bright obvious stands motionless in cold.
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from The Great Gatsby [F. Scott Fitzgerald] [10 Jan 2006|12:49pm]

“It was a strange coincidence,” I said.

“But it wasn’t a coincidence at all.”

“Why not?”

“Gatsby bought that house so that Daisy would be just across the bay.”

Then it had not been merely the stars to which he had aspired on that June night. He came alive to me, delivered suddenly from the womb of his purposeless splendor.

“He wants to know,” continued Jordan, “if you’ll invite Daisy to your house some afternoon and then let him come over.”

The modesty of the demand shook me. He had waited five years and bought a mansion where he dispensed starlight to casual moths--so that he could “come over” some afternoon to a stranger’s garden.
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[05 Jan 2006|07:21pm]

Anecdote of the jar

I placed a jar in Tennessee
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.

The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.

It took dominion everywhere.
The jar was grey and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.

by Wallace Stevens
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Lines from a Peking opera [unknown] [19 Dec 2005|10:45am]

Weep for a beautiful woman born under an unlucky star:
her perfect love match, a river flowing East.
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Lines from a Japanese ballad [unknown] [14 Dec 2005|11:13am]

When the mission school's fir tree
is hit by light, illumination radiates
and people's shadows scatter themselves
behind chestnuts.

I want to see you so desperately,
I want to see you without reason.

A scent of orange came from the love letter
written in invisible ink.
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from Out of Africa [Isak Dinesen] [02 Dec 2005|02:01pm]

If I knew a song of Africa--I thought--of the Giraffe, and the African new moon lying on her back, of the ploughs in the fields, and the sweaty faces of the coffee-pickers, does Africa know a song of me? Would the air over the plain quiver with a colour that I had had on, or the children invent a game in which my name was, or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me, or would the eagles of the Ngong look out for me?
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Not So Far as the Forest [Edna St. Vincent Millay] [01 Dec 2005|12:35pm]

This has always made me cry.

Not So Far as the ForestCollapse )
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Sonnet CXII [Shakespeare] [30 Nov 2005|02:11pm]

Your love and pity doth the impression fill
Which vulgar scandal stamped upon my brow;
For what care I who calls me well or ill,
So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?
You are my all-the-world, and I must strive
To know my shames and praises from your tongue;
None else to me, nor I to none alive,
That my steeled sense or changes right or wrong.
In so profound abysm I throw all care
Of others' voices, that my adder's sense
To critic and to flatterer stopped are.
Mark how with my neglect I do dispense:
You are so strongly in my purpose bred
That all the world besides methinks are dead.
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