Somehow we manage it: to like our friends, to tolerate not only their little ways but their huge neuroses, their monumental oddness: "Oh well," we smile, "it's one of his funny days."
I write in praise of the solitary act: of not feeling a trespassing tongue forced into one's mouth, one's breath smothered, nipples crushed against t… - Fleur Adcock
I write in praise of the solitary act: of not feeling a trespassing tongue forced into one's mouth, one's breath smothered, nipples crushed against t…
- Fleur Adcock
Somehow we manage it: to like our friends, to tolerate not only their little ways but their huge neuroses, their monumental oddness: "Oh well," we … - Fleur Adcock
Somehow we manage it: to like our friends, to tolerate not only their little ways but their huge neuroses, their monumental oddness: "Oh well," we …
You have to listen to your own voice. Not your heart, not your instincts, not any of that self-permissive psycho-babble stuff. No, none of that. If i… - Fleur Adcock
You have to listen to your own voice. Not your heart, not your instincts, not any of that self-permissive psycho-babble stuff. No, none of that. If i…
Poetry is a search for ways of communication; it must be conducted with openness, flexibility, and a constant readiness to listen. - Fleur Adcock
Poetry is a search for ways of communication; it must be conducted with openness, flexibility, and a constant readiness to listen.
There are worse things than having behaved foolishly in public. There are worse things than these miniature betrayals, committed or endured or suspec… - Fleur Adcock
There are worse things than having behaved foolishly in public. There are worse things than these miniature betrayals, committed or endured or suspec…
Art's whatever you choose to frame. - Fleur Adcock
Art's whatever you choose to frame.
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