Sublime
An inspiration engine for ideas
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.
T.S. Eliot • The Essential T.S. Eliot
That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the comfort of the Resurrection
Cloud-puffball, torn tufts, tossed pillows | flaunt forth, then chevy on an air-
Built thoroughfare: heaven-roysterers, in gay-gangs | they throng; they glitter in marches.
Down roughcast, down dazzling whitewash, | wherever an elm arches,
Shivelights and s
... See moreAccording to Goethe, Byron’s poetical power eclipsed all other mortals, and he was not held back by petty morality, being possessed of a virtue of which the bourgeoisie had no conception.
Alan Cardew • Lord Byron: The Perils and Glories of a Classical Education
I continued in oblivion lost,
My head was resting on my love;
Lost to all things and myself,
And, amid the lilies forgotten,
Threw all my cares away.
My head was resting on my love;
Lost to all things and myself,
And, amid the lilies forgotten,
Threw all my cares away.
St. John Of The Cross • The Dark Night of the Soul by St. John Of The… | Poetry Foundation
Add wings to thy speed, sweet evening; and thou, moon, I charge thee, shroud thy beams at the moment when my Pleyel whispers love.
Charles Brockden Brown • Wieland: or, the Transformation, an American Tale
Miller begins by considering the true measure of youthfulness:
If at eighty you’re not a cripple or an invalid, if you have your health, if you still enjoy a good walk, a good meal (with all the trimmings), if you can sleep without first taking a pill, if birds and flowers, mountains and sea still inspire you, you are a most fortunate individual and... See more
Maria Popova • The Measure of a Life Well Lived: Henry Miller on Growing Old, the Perils of Success, and the Secret of Remaining Young at Heart
alina stefanescu, writer
alinastefanescuwriter.com
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.