Hindsight is the enchanted loom on which we weave the pattern of our destiny, threading together fragmentary memories and chance occurrences into a thing of cohesion, from which a shape and a story emerge — a story we call fate. Suddenly, we find in our past omens of our present — synchronicities that become signposts, pointing us to where we were always meant to go.
In this haunting sense of fatedness, the determinism of science and the predestination of spirituality converge.
— from The Marginalia by Maria Popova
- I Can’t Just Speak About SufferingIf there is to be any truth in beauty I can’t just speak about suffering as if there isn’t some good in suffering too. — Todd Dillard from poem Arts and Crafts with the Addict’s Son
- I Remember My Watery NatureI remember my watery nature, pour my liquid body to wash away the pain of the shorter years, to wash away the pain of a hollow embrace, the feeling that we all will slide, not into the clear pool, but into the murk of a place that should not be settled. — Petra Kuppers from… Read more: I Remember My Watery Nature
- Don’t Remember Lighting This Cigarettedon’t remember lighting this cigarette and I don’t remember if I’m here alone or waiting for someone. — Leonard Cohen, Book of Longing
- You Fit Into Meyou fit into me like a hook into an eye a fish hook an open eye — Margaret Atwood from poem [you fit into me]
- I Live Alone In A Kind Of LuxuryI live alone in a kind of luxury. I wake when I feel like it… I fell in love. I believed people. And even now I love the yellow light shining down on the dirty brick wall. — Linda Gregg from poem Staying After