Rose Paris

“Perhaps the world's night is now approaching its midnight. Perhaps the world's time is now becoming the completely destitute time. But also perhaps not, not yet, not even yet, despite the immeasurable need, despite all suffering, despite nameless sorrow, despite the growing and spreading peacelessness, despite the mounting confusion.”
― Martin Heidegger, Poetry, Language, Thought

“Who'd storm a rainbow? Lay siege to elsewhere?”
― Greer Gilman

“I am a dark clodling deep inside the coddling sea,
thick with drifts of tiny dead: fish, gribkin, sponge.
Cheek and jowl a soupy seeping is I,
a lulled, dull clump and wondrous lumping,
quiet, secrety.”
― Cat Woodward, Strange Shape

“I’ve been a selfish child pretending to be a man. I allowed fatherhood to become a creeping cataract, preventing me from seeing the changing needs of those around me. But I didn’t know then what I know now. That you have to let them pluck from your heart with bruising fingers great, sparkling, golden resinous chunks of love, and never ask under what moon they smoke it or where they spill it.”
― Graham Joyce, Smoking Poppy