“Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting.”
― Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance
Mural, Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas
“We can only see a short distance ahead, but we can see plenty there that needs to be done.”
― Alan Turing, Computing machinery and intelligence
Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas
“She wore flowers in her hair and carried magic secrets in her eyes. She spoke to no one. She spent hours on the riverbank. She smoked cigarettes and had midnight swims…”
― Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things
Mural, Deep Ellum
Dallas, Texas
“Miss Morstan and I stood together, and her hand was in mine. A wondrous subtle thing is love, for here were we two, who had never seen each other until that day, between whom no word or even look of affection had ever passed, and yet now in an hour of trouble our hands instinctively sought for each other. I have marveled at it since, but at the time it seemed the most natural thing that I would go out to her so, and, as she has often told me, there was in her also the instinct to turn to me for comfort and protection. So we stood hand in hand like two children, and there was peace in our hearts for all the dark things that surrounded us.”
― Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories, Volume I
“What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music…. And people flock around the poet and say: ‘Sing again soon’ – that is, ‘May new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten us, but the music, that is blissful.”
― Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or
“To have opinions is to sell out to youself. To have no opinions is to exist. To have every opinion is to be a poet.”
—–Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet
“It is a great feeling to know
that from a window
I can go to books to cans of beer to past loves.
And from these gather enough dream
to sneak out a back door.”
—Gregory Corso, The Vestal Lady on Brattle and Other Poems
