but I am a reader, always, of both the best and the mundane things. I collect words, bits of words, lines from novels, stories, parts of poems, whole poems sometimes-sort of like a linguistic magpie.
I return to those words, then, when I am feeling contemplative, or uninspired, or inspired, or driven, or aimless, whether I know what I'm looking for, or if I don't.
And one of the truest things I know-words can save your life. As we go along-that is, when I remember-I'll post those most meaningful, for whatever reason, to me. A promise- I will only borrow words from books, poems, that I have actually read. It seems truer that way.
so take this as it's meant, read widely and yet deeply, and find your place somewhere around here. best, always.
And in one old face, grown suddenly pale, recognition breaks through. Recognition? Is it really just recognition? — Forgiveness. Forgiveness of what? — Love. My God: it is love.
--Rainer Maria Rilke, THE MAN WHO DID NOT WANT TO BE LOVED
“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.”
Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums