Poetry's a thing that belongs to everyone.
The underdog winning is the romantic position.
So the lover must struggle for words.
His voice a rhythm like rain, words rolling over themselves... “You are distinguished from the leaves by the shape of your eyes. They are whiter in color and rounder. Except on nights like this when the leaves are luminous....” “Still, you are ...
I'm sorry you don't like coming back here," her mother often said, to cap whatever petty dust-up they'd had. How could Emily explain: it wasn't her mother or Kersey she'd disowned, but her earlier self, that strange, ungrateful girl who strove to be ...
Eroticism is mystique; that is, the aura of emotion and imagination around sex. It cannot be 'fixed' by codes of social or moral convenience, whether from the political left or right. For nature's fascism is greater than that of any society. There is...
Some would look at Emily’s life and think that a child born with Down’s syndrome has little hope for a meaningful life. Throw in the diagnosis of leukemia and that little hope turns into no hope whatsoever. I disagree. Emily’s life, with all it...
Brendan Frye: You gotta come back to me, Em. Emily: No! Brendan Frye: You're in a spot, but I can get you out of it if you just come back to me. Emily: No you're not hearing me! I don't want to be put away and protected. Brendan Frye: Whatever befall...
I don't know what 'famous' is, really.
Kisses, even to the air, are beautiful.
There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart.
A man's kiss is his signature.
When I give I give myself.
The cat is a dilettante in fur.
For me, poetry is always a search for order.
I intended an Ode, And it turned to a Sonnet.
My heart is like a singing bird.
We only part to meet again.
If the world's a veil of tears, Smile till rainbows span it.
No, I don't know any Emily Dickinson poems!
To be interested in food but not in food production is clearly absurd.
