a humble dream
“All my life I have been haunted with the idea that the poet should know all classes of men as one of themselves, that he should combine the the greatest possible personal realization with the greatest possible knowledge of the speech and circumstance of the world. Fifteen or twenty years ago I remember longing, with this purpose, to disguise myself as a peasant and wander through the West, and then shipping as a sailor. But when one shrinks from even talking business with a stranger, and is unnatural till one knows a man for months, because one underrates or overrates all unknown people, one cannot adventure far. The artist grows more and more distinct, more and more a being in his own right as it were, but more and more loses grasp of the always more complex world. Some day setting out to find knowledge, like some pilgrim to the Holy Land, he will become the most romantic of all characters. He will play with all masks.”
William B. Yeats from his personal journal: written 1909- 1930.“I want so badly to believe that “there is truth, that love is real.” And I want life in every word to the extent that it’s absurd”
Clark Gable by The Postal Service“There are two things in this world that you can never hide: a sneeze… and that feeling you get when you know he just doesn’t love you anymore.”
my friend— we were talking about a guy she had liked, but had recently given up on. She had seen him today for the first time in awhile, and she said this— plainly and in the middle of our conversation. these words struck me, though.
people have often asked me how i go about writing poems… but really. with poetry flowing out as naturally as it had— just two college girls walking back to their dorm, chatting about unrequited love— how could i not?
“You say Mr. Vyse wants me to listen to him, Mr. Emerson. Pardon me for suggesting that you have caught the habit.”
And he took the shoddy reproof and touched it into immortality. He said:
“Yes, I have,” and sank as if suddenly weary. “I’m the same kind of brute at the bottom. This desire to govern a woman— it lies very deep, and men and women must fight it together before they shall enter the garden. But I do love you— surely in a better way than he does.”
He thought. “Yes— really in a better way. I want you to have your own thoughts even when I hold you in my arms.”
A Room with a View by E.M. Forster
A friend lent it to me last semester and I only got around to reading it now. It’s really good ^^ Reminiscent of a light Jane Austen, if that makes any sense…
For a little more background information, this is a conversation is between George Emerson and the protagonist, Lucy Honeychurch. Miss Honeychurch, engaged to the mentioned Mr. Vyse.
