King Iris

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”
― Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

“When she does not find love, she may find poetry. Because she does not act, she observes, she feels, she records; a color, a smile awakens profound echoes within her; her destiny is outside her, scattered in cities already built, on the faces of men already marked by life, she makes contact, she relishes with passion and yet in a manner more detached, more free, than that of a young man. Being poorly integrated in the universe of humanity and hardly able to adapt herself therein, she, like the child, is able to see it objectively; instead of being interested solely in her grasp on things, she looks for their significance; she catches their special outlines, their unexpected metamorphoses. She rarely feels a bold creativeness, and usually she lacks the technique of self-expression; but in her conversation, her letters, her literary essays, her sketches, she manifests an original sensitivity. The young girl throws herself into things with ardor, because she is not yet deprived of her transcendence; and the fact that she accomplishes nothing, that she is nothing, will make her impulses only the more passionate. Empty and unlimited, she seeks from within her nothingness to attain All.”
― Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex

“لآ أستطيع أن أقول لك :
أحبك
فقد شاهدتُ هذه الكلمة
تُطارد على الأرصفة كالغواني
وتُجلد في الساحات العامة ، كالبغايا
وتُطرد من المُدن ، كمرضى الجُذام !
_
لآ أستطيع أن أقول لك :
أحبك
فقد سمعتُ هذه الكلمة
تُلفظ في الحانات ، مع هذر السُكارى !
_
وحين تهربُ كلمة " أحبك " إلى الشوارع
يُطاردها الناس ويرجمونها بالحصى
ثم يقتادونها إلى مصح عقلي !
_
لآ أستطيع أن أقول لك :
أحبك
حتى لآ يوسخها أصدقاؤنا الألداء بنكاتهم وتظارفهم ، وهي في طريقها إليك !
_
لآ أستطيع أن أقول لك :
أحبك
لكني أستطيع كتابة الكلمة بشفتيّ
فوق جبينك ، بصمت
وأنت نائم
لتلتقطها أصابع أحلآمك !”
― غادة السمان, الحب من الوريد إلى الوريد

“حسبي وحسبكُ أن تظلي دائماً سراً يمزقني وليسَ يُقالُ”
― نزار قباني, الرسم بالكلمات