The reading eye must do the work to make them live, and so it did, again and again, never the same life twice, as the artist had intended.
A.S. Byatt
A metamorphosis.. The shining butterfly of the soul from the pupa of the body. Larva, pupa, imago. An image of art.
art soul body image butterfly
Contemporary' was in those days [1953] synonymous with 'modern' as it had not been before and is not now [1977].
time art days
Those words... National and portrait. They were both to do with identity: the identity of a culture (place, language and history), the identity of an individual human being as an object for mimetic representation.
culture history art identity human language words individual nation place representation
This is where I have always been coming to. Since my time began. And when I go away from here, this will be the mid-point, to which everything ran, before, and from which everything will run. But now, my love, we are here, we are now, and those other times are running elsewhere.
fate
[H]is mouth pursed, but pursed in American, more generous than English pursing, ready for broader vowels and less mincing sounds. His body was long and lean and trim; he had American hips, ready for a neat belt and the faraway ghost of a gunbelt.
identity self-awareness self-image
Outside our small safe place flies mystery.
poetry prose
Now and then there are readings which make the hairs on the neck, the non-existent pelt, stand on end and tremble, when every word burns and shines hard and clear and infinite and exact, like stones of fire, like points of stars in the dark - readings when the knowledge that we shall know the writing differently or better or satisfactorily, runs ahead of any capacity to say what we know, or how. In these readings, a sense that the text has appeared to be wholly new, never before seen, is followed, almost immediately, by the sense that it was always there, that we the readers, knew it was always there, and have always known it was as it was, though we have now for the first time recognised, become fully cognisant of, our knowledge.
reading
Think of this - that the writer wrote alone, and the reader read alone, and they were alone with each other.
reading writing connections
The individual appears for an instant, joins the community of thought, modifies it and dies; but the species, that dies not, reaps the fruit of his ephemeral existence.
life wisdom humanity knowledge
Words have been all my life, all my life--this need is like the Spider's need who carries before her a huge Burden of Silk which she must spin out--the silk is her life, her home, her safety--her food and drink too--and if it is attacked or pulled down, why, what can she do but make more, spin afresh, design anew.
writing words
History, writing, infect after a time a man's sense of himself..
writing self-discovery self-awareness
Good writing is always new.
writing
mythology fiction intellectual
Funny way to spend your life, though, studying another chap's versifying.
literature
My Solitude is my Treasure, the best thing I have.
solitude peace
Showing 1 to 15 of 20 results
You must log in to post a comment.
There are no comments yet.