“I had a moment of clarity, saw the feeling in the heart of things, walked out to the garden crying.”
― Howl and Other Poems
― Howl and Other Poems
“Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.”
― Incest: From "A Journal of Love": The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1932-1934
― Incest: From "A Journal of Love": The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1932-1934
“The beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
― Howl and Other Poems
― Howl and Other Poems
“The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction
the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.
Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human—
looks out of the heart
burning with purity—
for the burden of life
is love,
but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.
No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love—
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
—cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:
the weight is too heavy
—must give
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.
The warm bodies
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye—
yes, yes,
that's what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.”
― Howl and Other Poems
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction
the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.
Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human—
looks out of the heart
burning with purity—
for the burden of life
is love,
but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.
No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love—
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
—cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:
the weight is too heavy
—must give
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.
The warm bodies
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye—
yes, yes,
that's what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.”
― Howl and Other Poems
“I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.”
― Howl and Other Poems
― Howl and Other Poems
Mèo’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Mèo’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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