I will always be on the side of those who have nothing and who are not even allowed to enjoy the nothing they have in peace. Federico Garcia Lorca More Quotes by Federico Garcia Lorca More Quotes From Federico Garcia Lorca The world is a shoulder of dark meat (black flesh of an old mule). And the light is on the other side. Federico Garcia Lorca black light dark Angel and Muse approach from without; the Angel sheds light and the Muse gives form (Hesiod learned of them). Gold leaf or chiton-folds: the poet finds his models in his laurel coppice. But the Duende, on the other hand, must come to life in the nethermost recesses of the blood. Federico Garcia Lorca angel light blood Even money, which shines so much, spits sometimes. Federico Garcia Lorca spit shining sometimes I'm satisfied. I am progressively making my life and my name in the surest and purest manner. If I catch on in the theater, as I think I will, all the doors will gladly open wide for me. Federico Garcia Lorca names doors thinking The bride, the white bride today a maiden, tomorrow a wife. Federico Garcia Lorca wife white today The wounds were burning like suns at five in the afternoon, and the crowd broke the windows At five in the afternoon. Ah, that fatal five in the afternoon! It was five by all the clocks! It was five in the shade of the afternoon! Federico Garcia Lorca afternoon burning crowds The terrible thing is that the crowd that fills the street believes that the world will always be the same and that it is their duty to keep that huge machine running, day and night, forever. This is what comes of a Protestant morality, that I, as a (thank God) typical Spaniard, found unnerving. Federico Garcia Lorca running night believe All one's personality is embedded in gloves and hats after they've been good and used. Show me a glove and I'll tell you the character of its owner. Federico Garcia Lorca gloves personality character While the poet wrestles with the horses on his brain and the sculptor wounds his eyes on the hard spark of alabaster, the dancer battles the air around her, air that threatens at any moment to destroy her harmony or to open huge open empty spaces where her rhythm will be annihilated. Federico Garcia Lorca horse eye air What matters most has an ultimate metallic quality of death. The chasuble and the wagon wheel, the razor and the prickly beards of shepherds, the bare moon, a fly, humid cupboards, rubble piles, the images of saints covered in lace, quicklime, and the wounding edges of the rooflines and watchtowers. Federico Garcia Lorca quality what-matters moon Green how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches. Federico Garcia Lorca branches color wind The moon carries the masks of meningitis into bedrooms, fills the wombs of pregnant women with cold water and, as soon as I'm not careful, throws handfuls of grass on my shoulders. Federico Garcia Lorca cold moon water
