Share this page: I have known the inexorable sadness of pencils, Neat in their boxes, dolour of pad and paperweight, All the misery of manilla folders and mucilage, Desolation in immaculate public places. -- The Lost Son (1948), 'Dolour' And I have seen dust from the walls of institutions, Finer than flour, alive, more dangerous than silica, Sift, almost invisible, through long afternoons of tedium. -- The Lost Son (1948), 'Dolour' And what a congress of stinks! -- Roots ripe as old bait, Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich, Leaf-mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks, Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath. -- The Lost Son (1948), 'Root Cellar' I remember the neckcurls, limp and damp, as tendrils; And her quick look,, a sidelong pickerel smile; And, how, once starled into talk, the light syllables leaped for her, And she balanced in the delight of her thought. -- The Waking (1953), 'Elegy for Jane' In the dark wood I saw -- I saw my several selves Come running from the leaves, Lewd, tiny, careless lives That scuttled under stones, Or broke, but would not go. -- 'The Exorcism' (1958) I knw a woman, lovely in her bones, When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them; Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one: The shapes a bright container can contain! -- Woods for the Wind (1958), 'I Knew a Woman' What's freedom for? To know eternity. I swear she cast a shadow white as stone. But who could count eternity in days? These old bones live to learn her wanton ways: (I measure time by how a body sways.) -- Woods for the Wind (1958), 'I Knew a Woman' I learned not to fear infinity, The far field, the windy cliffs of forever, The diying of time in the white light of tomorrow. -- The Far Field (1964), 'The Far Field' O who can be Both moth and flame? The weak moth blunderng by. Whom do we love? I thought I knew the truth; Of grief I died, but no one knew my death. -- 'The Sequel' (1964) Share this page:

The selection of the above quotes and the writing of the accompanying notes was performed by the author David Paul Wagner. About Us • Contact Us • Privacy • Terms of Use © 2005-23 Wide World of Quotes. All Rights Reserved.