Fire is fed by fire. The same small flame destroys Two stalks of wheat at once. Federico Garcia Lorca More Quotes by Federico Garcia Lorca More Quotes From Federico Garcia Lorca Besides black art, there is only automation and mechanization. Federico Garcia Lorca automationblackart At five in the afternoon. It was exactly five in the afternoon. A boy brought the white sheet at five in the afternoon. A frail of lime ready prepared at five in the afternoon. The rest was death, and death alone Federico Garcia Lorca afternoonwhiteboys The night below. We two. Crystal of pain. You wept over great distances. My ache was a clutch of agonies over your sickly heart of sand. Federico Garcia Lorca distancepainheart At first glance, the rhythm may be confused with gaiety, but when you look more closely at the mechanism of social life and the painful slavery of both men and machines, you see that it is nothing but a kind of typical, empty anguish that makes even crime and gangs forgivable means of escape. Federico Garcia Lorca confusedmenmean To see you naked is to recall the Earth. Federico Garcia Lorca nuditynakedearth Ever since I got married I've been thinking night and day about whose fault it was, and every time I think about it, out comes a new fault to eat up the old one; but always there's a fault left. Federico Garcia Lorca faultsnightthinking Theatre is poetry that rises from the book and becomes human enough to talk and shout, weep and despair Federico Garcia Lorca despairtheatrebook I have often lost myself in the sea, ears full of newly cut flowers, tongue full of love and agony. Federico Garcia Lorca cuttingflowersea My head is full of fire and grief and my tongue runs wild, pierced with shards of glass. Federico Garcia Lorca grieffirerunning Oh honey, there's nothing new on this earth when it comes to what men and women do in the dark. First love is when you learn. So you've learned that love can open you up like spring sun on a wee primrose. Good. Remember that. You know how to love. Federico Garcia Lorca first-lovedarkspring Night of Sleepless Love The night above. We two. Full moon. I started to weep, you laughed. Your scorn was a god, my laments moments and doves in a chain. The night below. We two. Crystal of pain. You wept over great distances. My ache was a clutch of agonies over your sickly heart of sand. Dawn married us on the bed, our mouths to the frozen spout of unstaunched blood. The sun came through the shuttered balcony and the coral of life opened its branches over my shrouded heart. Federico Garcia Lorca distancepainheart In the garden I will die. In the rosebush they will kill me. Federico Garcia Lorca gardendyingdeath Woodcutter. Cut my shadow from me. Free me from the torment of being without fruit. Why was I born among mirrors? Day goes round and round me. The night copies me in all its stars. I want to live without my reflection. And then let me dream that ants and thistledown are my leaves and my parrots. Federico Garcia Lorca cuttingstarsdream Seville is a tower full of fine archers.... Under the arch of the sky, across the clear plain, she shoots the constant arrow of her river. Federico Garcia Lorca archerskyrivers Ditty of First Desire In the green morning I wanted to be a heart. A heart. And in the ripe evening I wanted to be a nightingale. A nightingale. (Soul, turn orange-colored. Soul, turn the color of love.) In the vivid morning I wanted to be myself. A heart. And at the evening's end I wanted to be my voice. A nightingale. Soul, turn orange-colored. Soul, turn the color of love. Federico Garcia Lorca colorheartmorning The important thing in life is to let the years carry us along. Federico Garcia Lorca things-in-lifeimportantyears Life is laughter amid a rosary of death. Federico Garcia Lorca rosarylaughterlife We're all like the little sailor. From the harbors we hear the strains of accordions and the murky soapy noises of the docks, from the mountains we receive the dish of silence that the shepherds eat, but we don't hear more than our own distances. And what distances without end and without doors and without mountains! Federico Garcia Lorca distancesilencedoors Men like to pleasure us, girl. They like to undo our plaits and give us water to drink from their own mouths. That's what makes the world go round. Federico Garcia Lorca girlgivingmen What you wouldn't have suspected lives & trembles in the air. Those treasures of the day you keep just out of reach. These come & go in truckloads but no one stops to see them. Federico Garcia Lorca treasureair
