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“People often ask me questions that I cannot very well answer in words, and it makes me sad to think they are unable to hear the voice of my silence.”
— Hazrat Inayat Khan
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The talented Mr. Ripley (1999)
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Scene at Dusk by the Castle Gate, 1881.
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(Ron Cecchetti)
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“Love never dies of a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness, errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds. It dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings, but never of a natural death.”
— Anais Nin
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“I sometimes wonder whether I’m a very keen swimmer, and whether for me, poetry is equivalent to swimming. I’ve often noticed when I swim, the strangeness of the way the body literally turns into a fish, but the head remains human and rather cold, and looking around at this strange flat reflective surface. I’m often very piercingly aware of the difference between my head and my body when I’m swimming because I’m not necessarily someone who goes underwater, I love swimming along the surface of rivers. Perhaps, my poems do feel a need to convey that continued separation of the head remaining human and the body becoming animal, or plant, or mineral, or whatever it can be. In some way, I suppose I’m trying to find rhythms that will heal that divide.”
— Alice Oswald, in “Between the Covers”, an interview with David Naimon
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