We are difficult. Human beings are difficult. We're difficult to ourselves, we're difficult to each other. And we are mysteries to ourselves, we are mysteries to each other. One encounters in any ordinary day far more real difficulty than one confronts in the most “intellectual” piece of work. Why is it believed that poetry, prose, painting, music should be less than we are? Why does music, why does poetry have to address us in simplified terms, when if such simplification were applied to a description of our own inner selves we would find it demeaning?
Thus I grind to conclusion. - Geoffrey Hill
Thus I grind to conclusion.
- Geoffrey Hill
Platonic England, house of solitudes, rests in its laurels and its injured stone - Geoffrey Hill
Platonic England, house of solitudes, rests in its laurels and its injured stone
... one of the things the tyrant most cunningly engineers is the gross over-simplification of language, because propaganda requires that the minds of… - Geoffrey Hill
... one of the things the tyrant most cunningly engineers is the gross over-simplification of language, because propaganda requires that the minds of…
Snooki is a bestselling author? Huh? What? I don't know if I should dumb down my book, shoot myself or find a publisher who'll settle for a rough dra… - Geoffrey Hill
Snooki is a bestselling author? Huh? What? I don't know if I should dumb down my book, shoot myself or find a publisher who'll settle for a rough dra…
Autumn resumes the land, ruffles the woods with smoky wings, entangles them. - Geoffrey Hill
Autumn resumes the land, ruffles the woods with smoky wings, entangles them.
We are difficult. Human beings are difficult. We're difficult to ourselves, we're difficult to each other. And we are mysteries to ourselves, we are … - Geoffrey Hill
We are difficult. Human beings are difficult. We're difficult to ourselves, we're difficult to each other. And we are mysteries to ourselves, we are …
As estimated, you died. Things marched, sufficient, to that end. Just so much Zyklon and leather, patented terror, so many routine cries. - Geoffrey Hill
As estimated, you died. Things marched, sufficient, to that end. Just so much Zyklon and leather, patented terror, so many routine cries.
September fattens on vines. Roses flake from the wall. The smoke of harmless fires drifts to my eyes. This is plenty. This is more than enough. - Geoffrey Hill
September fattens on vines. Roses flake from the wall. The smoke of harmless fires drifts to my eyes. This is plenty. This is more than enough.
We are difficult. Human beings are difficult. We’re difficult to ourselves, we’re difficult to each other. - Geoffrey Hill
We are difficult. Human beings are difficult. We’re difficult to ourselves, we’re difficult to each other.
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