There is a deep sense in which we are all ghost towns. We are all haunted by the memory of those we love, those with whom we feel we have unfinished business. While they may no longer be with us, a faint aroma of their presence remains, a presence th...
It seemed my whole life was composed of these disjointed fractions of time, hanging around in one public place and then another, as if I were waiting for trains that never came. And, like one of those ghosts who are said to linger around depots late ...
That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fade...
I lay down and started to feel a little depressed about prom. I refused to feel any kind of sadness over the fact that I wasn't going to prom, but I had - stupidly, embarrassingly - thought of finding Margo, and getting her to come home with me just ...
The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did in the miraculous months of April and May, 1819). Burns chose autumn. Longfellow liked the month of September. Shelley flourished ...
the phantom of the man-who-would-understand, the lost brother, the twin --- for him did we leave our mothers, deny our sisters, over and over? did we invent him, conjure him over the charring log, nights, late, in the snowbound cabin did we dream or ...
I would like to see you come undone. When you're laughing so hard that your eyes crinkle at the corners and your hand comes up to cover your mouth, like you're trying to conceal a secret. When you are overcome with a sadness so deep that your shoulde...
A mother's wrath does not survive the night.
Who arrives in the darkness departs as night falls.
The day cuts off the promise of the night.
If you carry treasure, don't travel at night.
The night walks the same road as the dream.
A woman's beauty cannot warm a winter's night.
I'm a Capricorn, and they flower late.
A major feature of life at the NIH in late 1960s was the extraordinary offering of evening courses for physicians attempting to become scientists as they neared thirty.
Most actresses are always running late - I'm no exception.
I don't think I was all that late in becoming a father.
I know I'm late, but I've finally joined Facebook!
Lately, I've been a little sad that I'm not a gay man.
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness...
