There are so many little dyings How do we know which one of them is death? Kenneth Patchen More Quotes by Kenneth Patchen More Quotes From Kenneth Patchen Law and order embrace on hate's border. Kenneth Patchen hatelaworder For greatness is only the drayhorse that coaxes The built cart out; and where we go is reason. But genius is an enormous littleness, a trickling Of heart that covers alike the hare and the hunter. Kenneth Patchen huntersgreatnessheart It's dark out, Jack, the stations out there don't identify themselves, we're in it raw-blind like burned rats, it's running out all around us, the footprints of the beast, one nobody has any notion of. The white and vacant eyes of something above there, something that doesn't know we exist. I smell heartbreak up there, Jack, a heartbreak at the center of things, and in which we don't figure at all. Kenneth Patchen eyedarkrunning 'THIS ROOM HAS MYSTERY LIKE A TRANCE' This room has mystery like a trance Of wine ; forget-me-nots of you Are chair and couch, the books your Fingers touched. And now that you Are absent here the silence scrapes A secret rust from everything; While sudden wreaths of sorrow's Dust uncover emptiness like halls To stumble through, and terror falls Kenneth Patchen winebookfall Now is then's only tomorrow. Kenneth Patchen tomorrow In the love of a man and a woman is the look of God looking. Kenneth Patchen sound-of-musicmenlooks I think you will agree that I am alive in every part of this book; turn back twenty, thirty, one hundred pages - I am back there. That is why I hate the story; characters are not snakes that they must shed their skins on every page - there can only be one action: what a man is. When you have understood this, you will be through with novels. Kenneth Patchen hatewritingbook That which is not daring is nothing. Kenneth Patchen daring What is a 'thing'? All is movement, a flowing. How stupid it is to speak of the 'mind'. There is a body; there is a mind: they are mixed up together. Shakespeare with a hole in his sock will not write the sonnet of a Shakespeare with socks intact. Kenneth Patchen stupidmindwriting Literature is what you write when you think you should be saying something. Writing begins when you'd rather be doing anything else: and you've just done it. Kenneth Patchen donewritingthinking Snow is the only one of us that leaves no tracks. Kenneth Patchen tracksnow The question is not: do we believe in God? but rather: does God believe in us? And the answer is: only an unbeliever could have created our image of God; and only a false God could be satisfied with it. Kenneth Patchen answersdoebelieve I think people need a little joy and humor as well as commitment in their lives Kenneth Patchen peoplecommitmentthinking
