Lost Quotes (page 87)
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Hour of Stars (1920)The round silence of night, one note on the staveof the infinite. Ripe with lost poems, I step naked into the street. The blackness riddledby the singing of crickets: sound, that deadwill-o'-the-wisp, that musical lightperceivedby the spirit. A thousand butterfly skeletonssleep within my walls. A wild crowd of young breezesover the river.
Federico Garcia Lorca
O where does he stalk like a horse in pastures very far afield? I cannot hear him, and silence writes more terrible things than he can ever deny. Is there a suspicion the battle is lost?
Certainly he killed me fourteen nights in succession. To rise again from such slaughter Messiah must indeed become a woman. He said this absence was the mere mechanics of the thing. But It is not the same.
Elizabeth Smart
Lay down these words. Before your mind like rocks. placed solid, by hands. In choice of place, set. Before the body of the mind in space and time: Solidity of bark, leaf, or wall riprap of things: Cobble of milky way. straying planets, These poems, people, lost ponies with. Dragging saddles -- and rocky sure-foot trails. The worlds like an endless four-dimensional. Game of Go. ants and pebbles. In the thin loam, each rock...
Gary Snyder
