He lost himself in the words and images conjured in his mind and for a while forgot ... He found himself flying among stars and planets ...
Carlos Ruiz ZafónStichwörter: words stars planets images forgot
I want to see the thirst
inside the syllables
I want to touch the fire
in the sound:
I want to feel the darkness
of the cry. I want
words as rough
as virgin rocks.” - Verb.
Stichwörter: words darkness touch cry verb rough syllables
Silence made space for other people's words, which was important for those who needed to be listened to.
Rachel SimonStichwörter: words love silence word listen listening listened rachel-simon the-story-of-beautiful-girl
Sometimes, when people speak, I cease listening to their words and zoom in instead on the cadence, and it can seem lovely, and at other times absurd, all this verbiage, these seemingly random consonants clattering on the string that is sound.
Rosie O'DonnellStichwörter: words sound verbiage
So this is what I am
Pondering his eyes that could not
Conceive that I was a creature to run from
I who have always believed too much in words
What is literature but the expression of moods by the vehicle of symbol and incident? And are there not moods which need heaven, hell, purgatory, and faeryland for their expression, no less than this dilapidated earth? Nay, are there not moods which shall find no expression unless there be men who dare to mix heaven, hell, purgatory, and faeryland together, or even to set the heads of beasts to the bodies of men, or to thrust the souls of men into the heart of rocks? Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear. Everything exists, everything is true, and the earth is only a little dust under our feet."
(A Teller of Tales)
Stichwörter: words reading books stories literature fantasy storytellers
I appricated that Nell was talking to me like a grown-up, but I had no idea what she meant. Still, I could see that the words flowed together like water over a riverbed.
Silas HouseStichwörter: words conversation grown-up
My head is full of fire
and grief and my tongue
runs wild, pierced
with shards of glass.
Stichwörter: words poetry grief
Our view of man will remain superficial so long as we fail to go back to that origin [of silence], so long as we fail to find, beneath the chatter of words, the primordial silence, and as long as we do not describe the action which breaks this silence. the spoken word is a gesture, and its meaning, a world.
Maurice Merleau-PontyA way of using words to say things which could not possibly be said in any other way, things which in a sense do not exist till they are born … in poetry.
Cecil Day-Lewis« erste vorherige
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