“WITH this our ‘Christian’ parents marred our youth:
‘One thing is certain of our origin.
We are born Adam’s bastards into sin,
Servants to Death and Time’s devouring tooth.
God, damning most, had this one thought of ruth
To save some dozens—Us: and by the skin
Of teeth to save us from the devil’s gin—
Repentance! Blood! Prayer! Sackcloth!
This is truth.'” [via]
“IN middle music of Apollo’s corn
She stood, the reaper, challenging a kiss;
The lips of her were fresher than the morn,
The perfume of her skin was ambergris;
The sun had kissed her body into brown;
Ripe breasts thrown forward to the summer breeze;
Warm tints of red lead fancy to the crown,
Her coils of chestnut, in abundant ease,
That bound the stately head. What joy of youth
Lifted her nostril to respire the wind?
What pride of being? What triumphal truth
Acclaimed her queen to her imperial mind?” [via]
“I was again enlightened with the light I enjoyed in my youth, and which had for exactly twenty years been closed from me, as by a door and window shutters…. Excuse my enthusiasm, or rather madness, for I am really drunk with intellectual vision whenever I take a pencil or graver in my hand, as I used to be in my youth.” [via]
“Again and again one finds some passing allusion to the cave of man’s mind, or to the caves of his youth, or to the cave of mysteries we enter at death, for to Shelley as to Porphyry it is more than an image of life in the world.” [via]