What is a quote? A quote (cognate with quota) is a cut, a section, a slice of someone else’s orange. You suck the slice, toss the rind, skate away. Part of what you enjoy in a documentary technique is the sense of banditry. To loot someone else’s life or sentences and make off with a point of view, which is called “objective” because you can make anything into an object by treating it this way, is exciting and dangerous.
Anne CarsonStichwörter: quotations
Pilgrims were people glad to take off their clothing, which was on fire.
Anne CarsonStichwörter: adventure
Geryon was a monster everything about him was red
Anne CarsonConsider incompleteness as a verb.
Anne CarsonThose nights lying alone are not discontinuous with this cold hectic dawn. It is who I am.
Anne CarsonYou doubt God? Well more to the point I credit God with the good sense to doubt me. What is mortality after all but divine doubt flashing over us? For an instant God suspends assent and poof! we disappear.
Anne CarsonNovels institutionalize the ruse of eros. It becomes a narrative texture of sustained incongruence, emotional and cognitive. It permits the reader to stand in triangular relation to the characters in the story and reach into the text after the objects of their desire, sharing their longing but also detached from it, seeing their view of reality but also its mistakenness. It is almost like being in love.
Anne CarsonStichwörter: reading writing philosophy writing-craft literature novels desire eros anne-carson eros-the-bittersweet
A thinking mind is not swallowed up by what it comes to know. It reaches out to grasp something related to itself and to its present knowledge (and so knowable in some degree) but also separate from itself and from its present knowledge (not identical with these). In any act of thinking, the mind must reach across this space between known and unknown, linking one to the other but also keeping visible to difference. It is an erotic space.
Anne CarsonStichwörter: thinking knowledge thought anne-carson eros-the-bittersweet
Four of the roses were on fire.
They stood up straight and pure on the stalk, gripping the dark like prophets
and howling colossal intimacies
from the back of their fused throats.
- XXVII. MITWELT
How does distance look?" is a simple direct question. It extends from a spaceless within to the edge of what can be loved.
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