Still, it was vision, or at least vision’s idiot cousin.
For some, religion is the cement that seals shut their door on the world
To sit in the shade on a fine day and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment.
Çünkü bana göre siyaset, en sonunda bizim gibi olmayanları kararlılıkla anlamama, romancılık ise anlama işidir.
That was the worst truth of all: alone. The word was a kind of death.
Thy life is safe while any god saves mine.
I too saw the wooden horse blocking the stars.
Fears are nothing more than a state of mind.
Belief and delusion are incestuous siblings.
Libraries are sexual dream factories. The langour brings it on.
We chart delusions through collective agreement.
Memory changes as a person matures.
Cela s'est passé. Je sais aujourd'hui saluer la beauté.
The world is a drama, staged in a dream
The changes we dread most may contain our salvation.
... like an entirely cloudless sky when one is going mountaineering...
... washed clean like a porcelain, with housewifely care...
To determine not to think of it was but to think of it still, to suffer from it still.
The faith is not the problem, Bernadette. The problem is the faithful.
I am a fugitive and a vagabond, a sojourner seeking signs.
One merit of poetry few persons will deny: it says more and in fewer words than prose.
