You are trembling.
It’s the way I crooked my elbow, you know, this way
– it’s nothing –
H.D., Bid Me to Live
“Does she scare you a little? Good. She should make you fear her love, so that when she lets you be a part of it, you won’t take it lightly. She should remind you of the power that beauty brings, that storms reside in her veins, and that she still wants you in the middle of it all. Do not take this soul for granted, for she is fierce, and she can take you places that you never thought you could go; but she is still loving in the midst of it all, like the calm rain after a storm, she can bring life. Learn her, and cherish her, respect her, and love her; for she is so much more than a pretty face, she is a soul on fire.”
“It’s late but everything comes next.”
– Naomi Shihab Nye, from Jerusalem
“There are openings in our lives
of which we know nothing.”
— Jane Hirshfield, from The Envoy in Given Sugar, Given Salt
At what o’clock to-morrow
Shall I send to thee?
At the hour of twelve.
I will not fail: ’tis twenty years till then.
I have forgot why I did call thee back.
Let me stand here till thou remember it.
I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
Remembering how I love thy company.
And I’ll still stay, to have thee still forget,
Forgetting any other home but this.
– William Shakespeare
“someone can be madly in love with you and still not be ready. they can love you in a way you have never been loved and still not join you on the bridge. and whatever their reasons you must leave. because you never ever have to inspire anyone to meet you on the bridge. you never ever have to convince someone to do the work to be ready. there is more extraordinary love, more love that you have never seen, out here in this wide and wild universe. and there is the love that will be ready.”
“Almost. It’s a big word for me. I feel it everywhere. Almost home. Almost happy. Almost changed. Almost, but not quite. Not yet. Soon, maybe.”
– Joan Bauer
“Literature is strewn with the wreckage of those who have minded beyond reason the opinion of others.”
– Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own