Leah

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Sabbath as Resist...
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Inhabiting Eden: ...
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The Creative Word...
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  (page 152 of 191)
"loving this book so far!" Apr 28, 2017 06:20PM

 
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Dinos Christianopoulos
“They tried to bury us. They didn't know we were seeds.”
Dinos Christianopoulos

Henry James
“Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.”
Henry James

Charlotte Eriksson
“So I am not a broken heart.
I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and if I were to be this empty I wanted something solid to sleep on. Like concrete.
I am not this year and I am not your fault.
I am muscles building cells, a little every day, because they broke that day,
but bones are stronger once they heal and I am smiling to the bus driver and replacing my groceries once a week and I am not sitting for hours in the shower anymore.
I am the way a life unfolds and bloom and seasons come and go and I am the way the spring always finds a way to turn even the coldest winter into a field of green and flowers and new life.
I am not your fault.”
Charlotte Eriksson, You're Doing Just Fine

Euripides
“What else is Wisdom? What of man's endeavour
Or God's high grace, so lovely and so great?
To stand from fear set free, to breathe and wait;
To hold a hand uplifted over Hate;
And shall not Loveliness be loved for ever?”
Euripides, The Bacchae

E.E. Cummings
“i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any---lifted from the no
of all nothing---human merely being
doubt unimaginably You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)”
E.E. Cummings, 100 Selected Poems

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