Quotes About Expression

we fuck well because he is a passive top and I am an active bottom. I never said this out loud, but I thought it often.

Skin is soft; it takes what you do to it.

The gown rustles and slides around her, speaking a glossolalia all of its own, the silk moving against the rougher nap of the underskirts, the bone supports of the bodice straining and squealing against their coverings, the cuffs scuffing and chafing the skin of her wrists, the stiffened collar hooking and nibbling at her nape, the hip supports creaking like the rigging of a ship. It is a symphony, an orchestra of fabrics, and Lucrezia would like to cover her ears, but she cannot.

The problem is," her brother says, striding through the attic, through the words scattered on the floor, making the curls of paper skitter and swirl around his boots, "that I have no talent for it. I cannot abide waiting.

thinks, as she lifts the plates, to miss the pain and anguish of one person, if that person keeps quiet, if he keeps it all in, like a bottle stoppered too tightly, the pressure inside building and building, until—what?

Descubre que es posible llorar todo el día y toda la noche. Que hay muchas formas de llorar: lágrimas que se derraman de repente, gemidos hondos y desgarrados, el interminable goteo silencioso de agua de los ojos.

She discovers that it is possible to cry all day and all night. That there are many different ways to cry: the sudden outpouring of tears, the deep, racking sobs, the soundless and endless leaking of water from the eyes.

They call to one another in their particular argot: pure Home Counties cut with Teen American. A lot of yips, heys, elongated vowels. They swing bags through the air. Hair is flicked, stroked, tossed. Trousers are worn tight but low; shoes unlaced. The females link arms with their chosen peers; the males perform mock violence upon those they recognize as their tribe.

The words fly out of her mouth, like hornets, words she didn't even know she knew, words that dart and crackle and maim, words that twist and mangle her tongue.

En aquel momento no se lo conté a nadie, ni a mis amigos ni a mi familia: no encontraba la manera de traducir lo sucedido a gramática y sintaxis.

I am also shouting at the top of my voice. There's something about living in the middle of nowhere that invites this indulgence.

I loaded on enough sarcasm to clog up a black hole.

One thousand ways to say good-bye One thousands ways to cry One thousand ways to hang your hat before you go outside I say good-bye good-bye good-bye I shout it out so loud Cause the next time that I find my voice I might not remember how.

Whether your writing is for personal journals or for publication, there are aspects we all share as writers.

Good words, good deeds, and beautiful expressions A wise man ever culls from every quarter, E?en as a gleaner gathers ears of corn.

How can you sing of amazing grace and all God's wonders without using your hands?

My love, I fear the silence of your hands.

She does not love you. Your metaphors thrill her you are her poet. But that's all there's to it. from "She Does Not Love You

Please take your time. I want you to kill me slowly so I can write my last poem to my wife's heart. They laughed, and took from me only the words dedicated to my wife's heart.

I want to find a language that transforms language itself into steel for the spirit--a language to use against these sparkling insects, these jets.

One day, I will be a poet. Water will depend on my visions.

In Damascus: poems become diaphanous They're neither sensual nor intellectual they are what echo says to echo . . .

For me it is essential, essential for the poet to have a new toast, new songs.

A poet need not trouble himself if he lies. He lies only in the matter of love, as the regions of the heart are open to tempting conquest.