#meter

It's like a memorial to Atlantis or Lyonesse: these are the stone buoys that mark a drowned world. ↗

— Christopher Hitchens

#cemetery #death #lyonesse #tombstones #wrocław

Enormous cemeteries existed among sedentary civilizations, where the weight of the past grew larger than any present time. ↗

— Vernor Vinge

#death #death

the cemetery is the home of those who are not here, come in. ↗

— Italo Calvino

#death #home #the-dead #death

Every poet has his dream reader: mine keeps a look out for curious prosodic fauna like bacchics and choriambs. ↗

— W.H. Auden

#poetry #prosody #dreams

Within its gates I heard the sound Of winds in cypress caverns caught Of huddling tress that moaned, and sought To whisper what their roots had found. (“A Dream of Fear”) ↗

— George Sterling

#graveyard #horror #scary #supernatural #trees

We are different, in essence, from other men. If you want to win something, run 100 meters. If you want to experience something, run a marathon. ↗

— Emil Zatopek

#essence #experience #marathon #men #meters

I find few things more personally enriching than exploring the parameters of my own ignorance. ↗

— Steve Maraboli

#ignorance #life #parameters #experience

Stroking a blob as it rolled along her face with one hand, and with the other gently grasping a lump on the back of her accident-prone head, I told my sweet sack of potatoes I knew just what she needed. A thermometer reading. ↗

— Benson Bruno

#consolation #funny #thermometer #funny

The first thing you notice about New Orleans are the burying grounds - the cemeteries - and they're a cold proposition, one of the best things there are here. Going by, you try to be as quiet as possible, better to let them sleep. Greek, Roman, sepulchres- palatial mausoleums made to order, phantomesque, signs and symbols of hidden decay - ghosts of women and men who have sinned and who've died and are now living in tombs. The past doesn't pass away so quickly here. You could be dead for a long time ↗

— Bob Dylan

#new-orleans #men

I met Anne in the autumn... Autumn, that wild season when rural men rack orchard trees with sticks and weep with the desire to kiss faraway Demeter’s supple breasts—to set lips to her travel-swollen eyes. They seek goddesses, but I desired only Anne. ↗

— Roman Payne

#demeter #goddesses #life #mortals #payne