Catherine Barnett > Quotes

“Who needs a lifetime?”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“but like a darkness slowly advancing,
like winter lightning,

we are drawn together.”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“YOU WERE HERE

says the silvery green light of time
breathing in and out like any mortal”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“I drove into the woods and there it was,
shining like the human mind.”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“and in these dreams I was participant and observer

as I am again now, dreaming of writing this.”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“Adversity is when a hero's two options are both bad.”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“Jean once told me she's not interested in writing about getting older but about
getting dead.”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“Solitude, and misery, may be necessary for a certain kind of work. You have to feel it first and if you've felt it you can just write the thing without explaining anything about it.”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“Play any film backward and it's elegy.”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“Elixirs should be kept in clocks.
Made of bergamot and fumes,

this one spreads furtively across the dawn”
― Catherine Barnett

“Come morning I'll make a list of obsessions
and maybe you won't still be on it”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“There is no boundary between the living and the dead”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“Enchantée, says the key in my hand.
When I try to turn it, it turns to sand.”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“Mostly I'd like to feel a little less, know a little more.”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“Hadn't I wanted to be known like that?
Seen from the inside, lit from within”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“There must be an aesthetic besides death”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“Which was it? Which will it be? Solitude, misery, love?”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems

“Lately I've been walking around talking to myself, who is full of swearing and disbelief.”
― Catherine Barnett, Human Hours: Poems