Words bounce. Words, if you let them, will do what they want to do and what they have to do. Anne Carson More Quotes by Anne Carson More Quotes From Anne Carson Sometimes a journey makes itself necessary. Anne Carson journey sometimes What is the fear inside language? No accident of the body can make it stop burning. Anne Carson burning language body All myth is an enriched pattern, a two-faced proposition, allowing its operator to say one thing and mean another, to lead a double life. Anne Carson patterns two mean It takes practice to shave the skin off the light. Anne Carson skins light practice The self forms at the edge of desire, and a science of self arises in the effort to leave that self behind. Anne Carson effort self desire I am a drop of gold he would say I am molten matter returned from the core of earth to tell you interior things- Anne Carson gold earth matter There is no person without a world. Anne Carson persons world All human desire is poised on an axis of paradox, absence and presence its poles, love and hate its motive energies. Anne Carson axes hate desire It is when you are asking about something that you realize you yourself have survived it, and so you must carry it, or fashion it into a thing that carries itself. Anne Carson realizing fashion asking You used to say. "Desire doubled is love and love doubled is madness." Madness doubled is marriage I added when the caustic was cool, not intending to produce a golden rule. Anne Carson golden and-love desire It is easier to tell a story of how people wound one another than of what binds them together. Anne Carson stories together people Desire doubled is love and love doubled is madness. Anne Carson madness and-love desire Small, red, and upright he waited, gripping his new bookbag tight in one hand and touching a lucky penny inside his coat pocket with the other, while the first snows of winter floated down on his eyelashes and covered the branches around him and silenced all trace of the world. Anne Carson eyelashes winter hands A thinking mind is not swallowed up by what it comes to know. It reaches out to grasp something related to itself and to its present knowledge (and so knowable in some degree) but also separate from itself and from its present knowledge (not identical with these). In any act of thinking, the mind must reach across this space between known and unknown, linking one to the other but also keeping visible to difference. It is an erotic space. Anne Carson differences space thinking That night we made love "the real way" which we had not yet attempted although married six months. Big mystery. No one knew where to put their leg and to this day I'm not sure we got it right. He seemed happy. You're like Venice he said beautifully. Early next day I wrote a short talk ("On Defloration") which he stole and had published in a small quarterly magazine. Overall this was a characteristic interaction between us. Or should I say ideal. Neither of us had ever seen Venice. Anne Carson next-day real night Beauty spins and the mind moves. To catch beauty would be to understand how that impertinent stability in vertigo is possible. But no, delight need not reach so far. To be running breathlessly, but not yet arrived, is itself delightful, a suspended moment of living hope. Anne Carson running beauty moving M: Is he smart I: She yes very smart sees right through me M: In my day we valued blindness rather more Anne Carson very-smart blindness smart I don't know that we really think any thoughts; we think connections between thoughts. That's where the mind moves, that's what's new, and the thoughts themselves have probably been there in my head or lots of other people's heads for a long time. Anne Carson long moving thinking Making is always a slightly hopeful thing because once you've made something, it'll - the world will be different. Anne Carson hopeful different world Now every mortal has pain and sweat is constant, but if there is anything dearer than being alive, it's dark to me. We humans seem disastrously in love with this thing (whatever it is) that glitters on the earth-- we call it life. We know no other. The underworld's a blank and all the rest just fantasy. Anne Carson sweat pain dark
