Stabbed Adonais

“. . . a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.

Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.

Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?

O waste of lost, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this weary, unbright cinder, lost! Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?

O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.”
― Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel

“মানুষ কি চায় — উন্নতি, না আনন্দ? উন্নতি করিয়া কি হইবে যদি তাহাতে আনন্দ না থাকে? আমি এমন কত লোকের কথা জানি, যাহারা জীবনে উন্নতি করিয়াছে বটে, কিন্তু আনন্দকে হারাইয়াছে। অতিরিক্ত ভোগে মনোবৃত্তির ধার ক্ষইয়া ভোঁতা — এখন আর কিছুতেই তেমন আনন্দ পায় না, জীবন তাহাদের নিকট একঘেয়ে, একরঙা, অর্থহীন। মন শান-বাঁধানো — রস ঢুকিতে পায় না।”
― Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay, আরণ্যক

“someone will remember us
I say
even in another time”
― Sappho, If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho

“to hope til Hope creates from its own wreak the thing it contemplates;”
― Percy Bysshe Shelley, Prometheus Unbound