Casey > Casey's Quotes

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  • #1
    Anaïs Nin
    “Woman’s role in creation should be parallel to her role in life. I don’t mean the good earth. I mean the bad earth too, the demon, the instincts, the storms of nature. Tragedies, conflicts, mysteries are personal. Man fabricated a detachment which became fatal. Woman must not fabricate. She must descend into the real womb and expose its secrets and its labyrinths. She must describe it as the city of Fez, with its Arabian Nights gentleness, tranquility and mystery. She must describe the voracious moods, the desires, the worlds contained in each cell of it. For the womb has dreams. It is not as simple as the good earth. I believe at times that man created art out of fear of exploring woman. I believe woman stuttered about herself out of fear of what she had to say. She covered herself with taboos and veils. Man invented a woman to suit his needs. He disposed of her by identifying her with nature and then paraded his contemptuous domination of nature. But woman is not nature only.
    She is the mermaid with her fish-tail dipped in the unconscious.”
    Anais Nin

  • #2
    Francesca Lia Block
    “Maybe i would become a mermaid... i would live in the swirling blue-green currents, doing exotic underwater dances for the fish, kissed by sea anemones, caressed by seaweed shawls. I would have a doliphin friend. He would have merry eyes and thick flesh of a god. My fingernails would be tiny shells and my skin would be like jade with light shining through it I would never have to come back up




    Francesca Lia Block

  • #3
    “The mermaid is an archetypal image that represents a woman who is at ease in the great waters of life, the waters of emotion and sexuality. She shows us how to embrace our instinctive sexuality and sensuality so that we can affirm the essence of our feminine nature, the wisdom of our bodies, and the playfulness of our spirits. She symbolizes our connection with our deepest instinctive feelings, our wild and untamed animal nature that exists below the surface of outward personalities. She is able to respond to her mysterious sexual impulses without abandoning her more human, conscious side. What happened to the girls who dreamed of being mermaids?”
    Anita Johnston, Eating in the Light of the Moon: How Women Can Transform Their Relationship with Food Through Myths, Metaphors, and Storytelling

  • #4
    C. JoyBell C.
    “I am a siren, and for my adoration of mankind, have been caught in fishing nets one time too many. And in those fishing nets I have learned too many unfavorable things about human intentions and the lack of trust and goodwill; I'm not going to allow myself to be caught, anymore. Sirens do well at singing the sirens' song and dragging vile people to their deaths, and for good reason!”
    C. JoyBell C.

  • #5
    Brenna Yovanoff
    “For the first time in maybe my whole life, I feel dangerous and magical, like a dragon or a mermaid. A fury, standing there with my half-gone grape slush and my jaw clenched, ready for whatever comes next.”
    Brenna Yovanoff, Paper Valentine

  • #6
    John Keats
    “Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.”
    John Keats

  • #7
    Pablo Neruda
    “Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks"

    All those men were there inside,
    when she came in totally naked.
    They had been drinking: they began to spit.
    Newly come from the river, she knew nothing.
    She was a mermaid who had lost her way.
    The insults flowed down her gleaming flesh.
    Obscenities drowned her golden breasts.
    Not knowing tears, she did not weep tears.
    Not knowing clothes, she did not have clothes.
    They blackened her with burnt corks and cigarette stubs,
    and rolled around laughing on the tavern floor.
    She did not speak because she had no speech.
    Her eyes were the colour of distant love,
    her twin arms were made of white topaz.
    Her lips moved, silent, in a coral light,
    and suddenly she went out by that door.
    Entering the river she was cleaned,
    shining like a white stone in the rain,
    and without looking back she swam again
    swam towards emptiness, swam towards death.”
    Pablo Neruda, The Essential Neruda: Selected Poems



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