#poe

It [Bach's cello suites] is like a great diamond," said [Mischa] Maisky in a thick Russian accent, "with so many different cuts that reflect light in so many different ways. ↗

— Eric Siblin

#cello #cello-suites #diamonds #music #poetry

BEN: Helpen op een andere manier. Zorgen dat ik 'n middel krijg om... SOFIE: om in te nemen. Zeg ben je nou helemaal... aaaach, je bent in een depressieve bui, het gaat wel weer over. BEN: Nee, dat is het juist, het gaat niet over. En ik verdom het om die hele... om die hele eindfase door te maken. SOFIE: Wie heeft het nou over eindfase? Daar is helemaal geen sprake van. Als je nou ontzettende pijn ha, maar dat heb je niet. Als je zó zwak was dat je niet meer kon bewegen, maar je loopt. Je eet, je drinkt, je lacht, je bent goed bij je hoofd. BEN: Dat is het. Ik wil stoppen op een moment dat ik er nog bèn, als man, als mens, als brein. Een moment waarop ik nog zelf kan beslissen. ↗

— Annie M.G. Schmidt

#men

But then he touched the flowers With the dry tips of his fingers. "Tell me how men kiss you. Tell me how you kiss. ↗

— Anna Akhmatova

#the-guest #the-visitor #men

That happens a lot with Shakespeare. The women go after what they want; the men wind up suckered into things. ↗

— Gayle Forman

#men #poet #relationships #rules #shakespeare-in-love

Poets are never unemployed, just unpaid. ↗

— Kathy Skaggs

#money #payment #poets #money

But neither money nor machines can create. They shuttle tokens of energy, but they do not transform. A civilization based on them puts people out of touch with their creative powers. ↗

— Lewis Hyde

#culture #machines #money #poetry #money

The war to preserve the privilege of mythmaking ↗

— Marvin Bell

#line #motivation #poetry #politics #prodigal

An old liar told me here To think ahead and save my money. I should have spent it on ribbons. I should have learned the tune my dead grandfather played When the daft wife heard him resounding In the deep pine woods in early November. ↗

— Menzies McKillop

#money #poetry #scottish #life

Contrasts The windows of my poetry are wide open on the boulevards and in the shop windows Shine The precious stones of light Listen to the violins of the limousines and the xylophones of the linotypes The sketcher washes with the hand-towel of the sky All is color spots And the hats of the women passing by are comets in the conflagration of the evening Unity There's no more unity All the clocks now read midnight after being set back ten minutes There's no more time. There's no more money. In the Chamber They are spoiling the marvelous elements of raw material ("Contrasts") ↗

— Blaise Cendrars

#clocks #color #colors #light #money

Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay. ↗

— Robert Frost

#nature #poem #nature