We are all burning in time, but each is consumed
at his own speed. Each is the product
of his spirit's refraction, of the inflection
of that mind. It is the pace of our living
that makes the world available.

-Jack Gilbert, from "Burning (Andante Non Troppo)"

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Quiet nights of quiet stars, quiet chords from my guitar
floating on the silence that surrounds us
Quiet thoughts and quiet dreams, quiet walks by quiet streams

“Corcovado,” my favorite song from this album
João Gilberto, safe travels


https://t.co/WB8feSOv6N

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and sailed back over a year
and in and out of weeks
and through a day

-Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are

(my favorite page in the book)

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III.

"But the wild things cried, 'Oh please don't go –
we'll eat you up – we love you so!'
And Max said, 'No!’"

-Maurice Sendak, from "Where the Wild Things Are"

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And so I belong nowhere,
and everywhere am a stranger,
a guest a best.

-Stefan Zweig, The World of Yesterday

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Last year’s
fragile, vanished snow
is falling now again —
if only seeing you
could be like this.

-Izumi Shikibu, b. 976
(trans. Jane Hirshfield & Mariko Aratani)


[1765 woodblock of the poet by Komatsuken]

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