It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things.
Stephane MallarmeRead
A soul trembling to sit by a hearth so bright, To exist again, it’s enough if I borrow from Your lips the breath of my name you murmur all night.
Interpretation
The quote expresses a deep yearning for connection and the significance of a beloved's words.
In this quote, Mallarme beautifully captures the essence of longing and intimacy in love. The imagery of a soul trembling by a bright hearth symbolizes warmth and comfort, while the desire to borrow the beloved's breath underscores the profound need for closeness and the value of being remembered and acknowledged by someone deeply cherished.
In practice
In a romantic speech during an anniversary dinner.
It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things.
As for me, Poetry takes the place of love, because it is enamored of itself, and because this self-lust has a delightful dying fall in my soul.
The pure work implies the disappearance of the poet as speaker, who hands over to the words.
The poetic act consists of suddenly seeing that an idea splits up into a number of equal motifs and of grouping them; they rhyme.
We receive love — from our children as well as others — not in proportion to our demands or sacrifices or needs, but roughly in proportion to our own capacity to love.
The true liberation of eroticism lies in accepting the fact that there are a million facets to it, a million forms of eroticism, a million objects of it, situations, atmospheres, and variations. We have, first of all, to dispense with guilt concerning its expansion, then remain open to it's surprises, varied expressions, and mingle it with dreams, fantasies, and emotion for it to attain its highest potency.
I fell in love with the thought that a human life could be a priestly conduit, a connecting link between earth and sky. As I grew and stumbled and, most important, as I began to love and be loved, I realized that the ultimate priest is the lover inside us
But if I lost you, it would devastate me as nothing else has or ever could. You have so much power over me and that’s frightening.
Then Carol slipped her arm under her neck, and all the length of their bodies touched fitting as if something had prearranged it. Happiness was like a green vine spreading through her, stretching fine tendrils, bearing flowers through her flesh. She had a vision of a pale white flower, shimmering as if seen in darkness, or through water. Why did people talk of heaven, she wondered
You know, the man of my dreams might walk round the corner tomorrow. I'm older and wiser and I think I'd make a great girlfriend. I live in the realm of romantic possibility.
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