Myths are stories about people who become too big for their lives temporarily, so that they crash into other lives or brush against gods. In crisis their souls are visible.
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Anand Thakur
Myths are stories about people who become too big for their lives temporarily, so that they crash into other lives or brush against gods. In crisis their souls are visible.
ANNE CARSONDo you remember when they taught cursive in schools? I think they don’t anymore. But I still enjoy it – just the physical act and all the – the whole business of making a thing out of language.
ANNE CARSONA refugee population is hungry for language and aware that anything can happen.
ANNE CARSONWhen an ecstatic is asked the question, What is it that love dares the self to do? she will answer: Love dares the self to leave itself behind, to enter into poverty.
ANNE CARSONLife pulls softly inside your bindings. The pod glows – dear stench.
ANNE CARSONI 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 CARSONThe self forms at the edge of desire, and a science of self arises in the effort to leave that self behind.
ANNE CARSONIt is easier to tell a story of how people wound one another than of what binds them together.
ANNE CARSONAt least half of your mind is always thinking, I’ll be leaving; this won’t last. It’s a good Buddhist attitude. If I were a Buddhist, this would be a great help. As it is, I’m just sad.
ANNE CARSONYou can get used to eating breakfast with a man in a fedora. You can get used to anything, my mother was in the habit of saying.
ANNE CARSONI never really got over the fun of making letters.
ANNE CARSONHere we go mother on the shipless ocean. Pity us, pity the ocean, here we go.
ANNE CARSONMy religion makes no sense and does not help me therefore I pursue it.
ANNE CARSONYou can never know enough, never work enough, never use the infinitives and participles oddly enough, never impede the movement harshly enough, never leave the mind quickly enough.
ANNE CARSONThose nights lying alone are not discontinuous with this cold hectic dawn. It is who I am.
ANNE CARSONPoetry – poiesis means a thing made.
ANNE CARSON