Each night about this time he puts on sadness like a garment and goes on writing. Anne Carson More Quotes by Anne Carson More Quotes From Anne Carson Words bounce. Words, if you let them, will do what they want to do and what they have to do. Anne Carson bounceifswant As Sokrates tells it, your story begins the moment Eros enters you. That incursion is the biggest risk of your life. How you handle it is an index of the quality, wisdom, and decorum of the things inside you. As you handle it you come into contact with what is inside you, in a sudden and startling way. You perceive what you are, what you lack, what you could be. Anne Carson qualityriskstories If your way of life is writing, then everything that happens becomes a sentence. Anne Carson life-iswritingway One of the principle qualities of pain is that it demands an explanation. Anne Carson qualitypainprinciples What is a quote? A quote (cognate with quota) is a cut, a section, a slice of someone's orange. You suck the slice, toss the rind, skate away. Anne Carson quotaorangecutting Pleasure and pain at once register upon the lover, inasmuch as the desirability of the love object derives, in part, from its lack. To whom is it lacking? To the lover. If we follow the trajectory of eros we consistently find it tracing out this same route: it moves out from the lover toward the beloved, then ricochets back to the lover himself and the hole in him, unnoticed before. Who is the subject of most love poems? Not the beloved. It is that hole. Anne Carson painlovemoving You remember too much," my mother said to me recently. "Why hold onto all that?" And I said, "where can I put it down? Anne Carson too-muchmotherremember To be running breathlessly, but not yet arrived, is itself delightful, a suspended moment of living hope. Anne Carson bittersweetwantrunning Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief. Anne Carson grieftragedydoe The words we read and words we write never say exactly what we mean. The people we love are never just as we desire them. The two symbola never perfectly match. Eros is in between. Anne Carson writingtwomean Eros is an issue of boundaries. He exists because certain boundaries do. In the interval between reach and grasp, between glance and counterglance, between ‘I love you’ and ‘I love you too,’ the absent presence of desire comes alive. But the boundaries of time and glance and I love you are only aftershocks of the main, inevitable boundary that creates Eros: the boundary of flesh and self between you and me. And it is only, suddenly, at the moment when I would dissolve that boundary, I realize I never can. Anne Carson issuesselflove-you Myths are stories about people who become too big for their lives temporarily, so that they crash into other lives or brush against gods. In crisis their souls are visible. Anne Carson soulstoriespeople When an ecstatic is asked the question, What is it that love dares the self to do? she will answer: Love dares the self to leave itself behind, to enter into poverty. Anne Carson povertyselfanswers Give me a world, you have taken the world I was. Anne Carson takengivingworld Under the seams runs the pain. Anne Carson painrunning [Short Talk on Sylvia Plath] Did you see her mother on television? She said plain, burned things. She said I thought it an excellent poem but it hurt me. She did not say jungle fear. She did not say jungle hatred wild jungle weeping chop it back chop it. She said self-government she said end of the road. She did not say humming in the middle of the air what you came for chop. Anne Carson governmenthurtmother The beloved's innocence brutalizes the lover. As the singing of a mad person behind you on the train enrages you, its beautiful animal-like teeth shining amid black planes of paint. As Helen enrages history. Senza uscita. Anne Carson madanimalbeautiful I've come to understand that the best one can hope for as a human is to have a relationship with that emptiness where God would be if God were available, but God isn't. Anne Carson emptinessgodwould-be Sometimes I dream a sentence and write it down. It’s usually nonsense, but sometimes it seems a key to another world. Anne Carson keysdreamwriting Those nights lying alone are not discontinuous with this cold hectic dawn. It is who I am. Anne Carson who-i-amnightlying
