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#poe

Read through the most famous quotes by topic #poe




Balm of the summer night, balm of the ordinary, imperial joy and sorrow of human existence, the dreamed as well as the lived— what could be dearer than this, given the closeness of death? ↗


— Louise Glück


#age

There came one and knocked at the door of the Beloved. And a voice answered and said, 'Who is there?' The lover replied, 'It is I.' 'Go hence,' returned the voice; 'there is no room within for thee and me.' Then came the lover a second time and knocked and again the voice demanded, 'Who is there?' He answered, 'It is thou.' 'Enter,' said the voice, 'for I am within. ↗


— Rumi


#poetry #sufi #love

Sometimes with one I love, I fill myself with rage, for fear I effuse unreturn'd love; But now I think there is no unreturn'd love—the pay is certain, one way or another; (I loved a certain person ardently, and my love was not return'd; Yet out of that, I have written these songs.) ↗


— Walt Whitman


#love

ليتني وردة تغرسني في حوضِ تُربتك قُربَ نافذتكَ الشرقيّة تقطفني أيّها الولد الأسمر على مطلعِ أيلول؛ لا تتركني أبداً أموت وحيدة كما الآن. ↗


— Nour Albawardi


#love

Armed I am with love. Disarmed I am. ↗


— Manuel Alegre


#poetry #vulnerability #weapon #love

Free verse is like free love; it is a contradiction in terms. ↗


— G.K. Chesterton


#poetry #love

Love, our subject: we've trained it like ivy to our walls. ↗


— Adrienne Rich


#love

Let's get loose with compassion. Let's drown in the delicious ambiance of love. ↗


— حافظ


#love #poetry #love

I could not love you, dear, so much Loved I not honor more ↗


— Richard Lovelace


#poetry #strength #love

We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don't grow on trees, like in the old days. So where does one find love? When you're sixteen it's easy, like being unleashed with a credit card in a department store of kisses. There's the first kiss. The sloppy kiss. The peck. The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we shouldn't be doing this kiss. The but your lips taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss. The I wish you'd quit smoking kiss. The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad sometimes kiss. The I know your tongue like the back of my hand kiss. As you get older, kisses become scarce. You'll be driving home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road, with its purple thumb out. If you were younger, you'd pull over, slide open the mouth's red door just to see how it fits. Oh where does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile. Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling. Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss. Now what? Don't invite the kiss over and answer the door in your underwear. It'll get suspicious and stare at your toes. Don't water the kiss with whiskey. It'll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters, but in the morning it'll be ashamed and sneak out of your body without saying good-bye, and you'll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left on the inside of your mouth. You must nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a special beach. Place it on the tongue's pillow, then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C. But one kiss levitates above all the others. The intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss. The I'll love you through a brick wall kiss. Even when I'm dead, I'll swim through the Earth, like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones. ↗


— Jeffrey McDaniel


#the-archipelago-of-kisses #love






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