Category Archives: FROM THE QUOTE BAG

In the Flesh

Her movements had the peculiar property of continuing to vibrate faintly in a room, or so it seemed, long after she had gone. — Roberto Bolano

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Toward the end of August

In the dead leaves under the oak tree the drip made rustling noises, releasing smells and memories. When I was seventeen I spent a summer working on a dude ranch in the foothills of the Sierra. Toward the end of … Continue reading

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Elevation

The world attracts you through your senses, and as long as you do not see the Sacred in the objects of your senses, you live in an awkward position, which scarcely helps you in procuring your spiritual elevation. — Sri … Continue reading

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Kimberly

I was goin’ crazy, so crazy I knew I could break through with you, So with one hand I rocked you and with one heart I reached for you. Ah, I knew your youth was for the takin’, fire on … Continue reading

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The Upanishads

I like how big an effect chance has on what I read. Chance is, after, all one of the cardinal precepts of my beloved Surrealism, and really, along with its cousin uncertainty, is one of the hallmarks of our age. … Continue reading

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Hide and Seek

We felt so much for each other Yet still always got along. We often played “house” but didn’t Quarrel or fight like the grown-ups. Together we kidded, teased and laughed And sweetly kissed and cuddled. In the end in our … Continue reading

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Confirmation

And yet, in spite of everything, I felt that my first adolescent loves were being reborn in the house, with the same trembling and sensations of sweet madness and fear and joy. — Ernesto Sabato, The Tunnel

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Shadowe

Life in the cycle of the countless rebirths is like a vision in a dream. The gods on high, the mute trees and the stones, are alike apparitions in this phantasy. — the Brahmavaivarta Purana

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The Part With The (W)Hole

God Almighty! She was unutterably lovely. Her beauty stung him. He sat there, her scorpion’s caress paralyzing him with rapture, her venom warming his blood. Who on earth was this girl? — Marc Behm I didn’t believe her life was … Continue reading

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from The Last Avant-Garde: The Making of the New York School of Poets

It is no secret that our own times are inimical to the imagination. Technology has put art to the rout. The concept of fame has been degraded, replaced by the notion of celebrity, and poetry is recognized as an expedient … Continue reading

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