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Life pulls softly inside your bindings. The pod glows – dear stench.

Anne Carson

The man has a theory. The woman has hipbones. Here comes Death.
ANNE CARSON

Death Man Theory Woman
A refugee population is hungry for language and aware that anything can happen.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur
He was trying to fit this Herakles onto the one he knew.
ANNE CARSON

Himself Known Oneself Try
If your way of life is writing, then everything that happens becomes a sentence.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur
He stood against the wind and let it peel him clean.
ANNE CARSON

Cleaning Himself Wind
We participate in the creation of the world by decreating ourselves.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur
The self forms at the edge of desire, and a science of self arises in the effort to leave that self behind.
ANNE CARSON

Behind Desire Edge Effort Form Leaving
Under the seams runs the pain.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur
When I began to be published, people got the idea that I should ‘teach writing,’ which I have no idea how to do and don’t really believe in.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur
Existence will not stop until it gets to beauty.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur
Meanwhile music pounded / across hearts opening every valve to the desperate drama of being / a self in a song.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur
You doubt God? Well more to the point I credit God with the good sense to doubt me. What is mortality after all but divine doubt flashing over us? For an instant God suspends assent and poof! we disappear.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur
They were two superior eels at the bottom of the tank and they recognized each other like italics.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur
I mean, every thought starts over, so every expression of a thought has to do the same. every accuracy has to be invented… I feel I am blundering in concepts too fine for me.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur
To live past the end of your myth is a perilous thing.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur
A page with a poem on it is less attractive than a page with a poem on it and some tea stains.
ANNE CARSON

Anand Thakur

Life pulls softly inside your bindings. The pod glows – dear stench.

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Life pulls softly inside your bindings. The pod glows – dear stench.

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Popular Authors

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