The rhyme is the line's birthday, as you know, and there are certain customary twins in Russian as in other tongues.
For instance, love automatically rhymes with blood, nature with liberty, sadness with distance, humane with everlasting, prince with mud, moon with a multitude of words, but sun and song and wind and life and death with none.
—Vladimir Nabokov An Evening of Russian Poetry
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There is no insurmountable solitude. All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are. And we must pass through solitude and difficulty, isolation and silence in order to reach forth to the enchanted place where we can dance our clumsy dance and sing our sorrowful song — but in this dance or in this song there are fulfilled the most ancient rites of our conscience in the awareness of being human and of believing in a common destiny.
—Pablo Neruda
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As we are a doomed race, chained to a sinking ship, as the whole thing is a bad joke, let us, at any rate, do our part; mitigate the suffering of our fellow-prisoners; decorate the dungeon with flowers and air-cushions; be as decent as we possibly can.
Awareness matters, because Matter is a materialisation of Awareness. Just as ‘energy’ is the formative activity of Awareness.
Just as space is a vast universal field of Awareness, and Time is the presencing of things in that field, so All bodies are Embodiments of Awareness, Formed of its Elemental qualities.
—Peter Wilberg The Awareness Principle
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I taste what you taste. I know the kind of lyrics your Soul most likes. I know which sounds will become resplendent in your mind and bring such pleasure your feet will jump and whirl. When anything touches or enters your body Never say it is not God, for He is just trying to get close.
I have no use for divine patience — my lips are always burning and everywhere. I am running from every corner of this world and sky wanting to kiss you;
I am every particle of dust and wheat — you and I are ground from His Own Body. I am rioting at your door; I am spinning in midair like golden falling leaves trying to win your glance.
I am sweetly rolling against your walls and your shores all night, even though you are asleep. I am singing from the mouths of animals and birds honoring our Beloved's promise and need: to let you know the Truth. My dear, when anything touches or enters your body never say it is not God, for He and I are just trying to get close to you.
God and I are rushing from every corner of existence, needing to say, "We are yours."
This is the Solstice, the still point of the sun, its cusp and midnight, the year’s threshold and unlocking, where the past lets go of and becomes the future, the place of caught breath
—Margaret Atwood Eating Fire
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In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.
