Women know the way to rear up children (to be just). They know a simple, merry, tender knack of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, and stringing pretty words that make no sense. And kissing full sense into empty words.
Elizabeth Barrett BrowningRead
Our Euripides the human, With his droppings of warm tears, and his touchings of things common Till they rose to meet the spheres.
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the emotional depth and transformative power of human experience in art.
In this quote, Elizabeth Barrett Browning speaks to the ability of art and humanity to elevate the ordinary and evoke deep emotions. By referencing Euripides, she highlights how art captures the essence of human suffering and beauty, suggesting that through art, common experiences can resonate with the higher realms of existence.
In practice
This quote can be used in an art class to inspire students about the emotional power of their work.
Women know the way to rear up children (to be just). They know a simple, merry, tender knack of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, and stringing pretty words that make no sense. And kissing full sense into empty words.
She has seen the mystery hid Under Egypt's pyramid: By those eyelids pale and close Now she knows what Rhamses knows.
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And, ever since, it grew more clean and white.
Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God: But only he who sees takes off his shoes.
Love me sweet With all thou art Feeling, thinking, seeing; Love me in the Lightest part, Love me in full Being.
At painful times, when composition is impossible and reading not enough, grammars and dictionaries are excellent for distraction.
Sometimes writing a novel is not unlike having a baby. You'd have to ask a female novelist to compare the pain.
Free verse is like free love; it is a contradiction in terms.
A good photograph is knowing where to stand.
If I were reading a book and happened to strike a wonderful passage I would close the book then and there and go for a walk. I hated the thought of coming to the end of a good book. I would tease it along, delay the inevitable as long as possible, But always, when I hit a great passage, I would stop reading immediately. Out I would go, rain, hail, snow or ice, and chew the cud.
I understood that synergistic dance between photographer and object - 'muse,' if you will, 'model,' whatever you call us. It's that silent language of communication, like being psychic with each other.
I kept starting 'Anansi Boys' as a movie and stopping, and eventually wrote the novel and was happy.
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