…for it is often to be observed of the shallower men, that they are the very last to despond. It is the glory of the bladder that nothing can sink it; it is the reproach of a box of treasure, that once overboard it must drown
What's remarkable about old age is not that we wear out but that we last so long in the grip of gravity.
...there remained a strange formality between them, and her pleasure in his presence felt too much like missing him had felt during the last week.
It doesn't matter, the important thing is to fall asleep caressing the charm of an image. Because the last thing you think of before falling asleep must always be the most beautiful.
contemporary poetry is a kind of Reykjavik, a place where accessibility and intelligence have been fighting a Cold War by proxy for the last half-century.
The sun that shines today is the sun that shone when thy father was born, and will still be shining when thy last grandchild shall pass into the darkness.
The cross stands high above the opinions of men and to that cross all opinions must come at last for judgment.
I'm not sentimental--I'm as romantic as you are. The idea, you know, is that the sentimental person thinks things will last--the romantic person has a desperate confidence that they won't.
Reginald “If” Ifa IV died today. His last words were, “Death, the great What if.” I dreamt this, but that doesn’t make it any less what iffier.
I talked to David yesterday, but since it is a statue, it didn’t talk back. I have to say, it was a better conversationalist than my last date.
There was an eerie quiet about last night, like death sleeping on the beach of Lake Erie. I woke up with sand in my shoes and tiny coffins on my feet.
His last name was Worthless. Or was that just the perfect word to describe him? Shouldn’t our names summarize who we are? If so, I want to be called Al Auttalovetogive.
I cleaned out my belly button last night, and I found the meaning of life. Gosh, I wonder how long it’s been hidden there.
Last night your thin walls invited me to the party next door / reminded me I am a quiet person in a quiet life.
Last night my girl and I were knocking boots, but it won’t happen tonight, because earlier today I went out and bought a doorbell.
Last night I stayed up late talking about tomorrow, and today I regret it because I was way off (by about 24 hours).
Last year, millions of students didn’t graduate from high school. They didn’t drop out, they were simply in elementary and middle schools.
His last name was Morris, but I called him Mars, because it’s like he was from another planet, like Venus. He was a cross dresser.
Listen, last time I talked to you three, you were all two oars short of having any oars, so I don't want to hear it.
The storm is here and now. The rains come and water floods our lives. Nothing last forever and the rainbow always appears.
Don’t tell me your name. It’s likely to awaken my conscience, and that’s the last thing we want.
