The anxiety of falling
The anxiety of falling in love could not find repose except in bed. Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Repose
He is life’s liberating
He is life’s liberating force. He is release of limbs and communion through dance. He is laughter, and music in flutes. He is repose from all cares — he is sleep! When his blood bursts from the grape and flows across tables laid in his honor to fuse with our blood, he gently, gradually, wraps … Read more
I think that high
I think that high art reposes on popular art, without one there cannot be another. Eric Rohmer
Further in Summer than
Further in Summer than the Birds Pathetic from the Grass A minor Nation celebrates Its unobtrusive Mass. No Ordinance be seen So gradual the Grace A pensive Custom it becomes Enlarging Loneliness. Antiquest felt at Noon When August burning low Arise this spectral Canticle Repose to typify Remit as yet no Grace No Furrow on … Read more
Look on the grave
Look on the grave where thou must sleep Thy last, and strongest foe; It is endurance not to weep, If that repose seem woe. Emily Bronte
When every man has
When every man has realized that his birth is a defeat, existence, endurable at last, will seem like the day after a surrender, like the relief and the repose of the conquered. Emile M. Cioran
We flatter those we
We flatter those we scarcely know, We please the fleeting guest; And deal full many a thoughtless blow, To those who love us best. Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own. There is new … Read more
There is new strength,
There is new strength, repose of mind, and inspiration in fresh apparel. Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Angle of Repose is
Angle of Repose is one of my favorite books. I fell in love with it in college. When I submitted The Night Journal to my agent she got very excited because she said it reminded her of Angle of Repose. Elizabeth Crook
For me, my heart,
For me, my heart, that erst did go Most like a tired child at a show, That sees through tears the mummers leap, Would now its wearied vision close, Would childlike on His love repose, Who giveth His Beloved, sleep. Elizabeth Barrett Browning