Quote

Music I heard with you was more than music, and bread I broke with you was more than bread. Now that I am without you, all is desolate all that was once so beautiful is dead.

Conrad Aiken

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Conrad Aiken
Age: 84 †
Born: 1889
Born: August 5
Died: 1973
Died: August 17
Essayist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Prosaist
Writer
Savannah
Georgia
Conrad Aiken
Without
Desolate
Desolation
Broke
Bread
Dead
Heard
Beautiful
Music

More quotes by Conrad Aiken

Image
Oh, I've discarded a great many [poems]. And occasionally I've discarded and then resurrected. I would find a crumpled yellow ball of paper in the wastebasket, in the morning, and open it to see what the hell I'd been up to and occasionally it was something that needed only a very slight change to be brought off, which I'd missed the day before.
Conrad Aiken
Image
The days, the nights, flow one by one above us. The hours go silently over our lifted faces. We are like dreamers who walk beneath a sea. Beneath high walls we flow in the sun together. We sleep, we wake, we laugh, we pursue, we flee.
Conrad Aiken
Image
Separate we come, and separate we go, And this be it known, is all that we know.
Conrad Aiken
Image
It's time to make love, douse the glim The fireflies twinkle and dim The stars lean together Like birds of a feather, And the loin lies down with the limb.
Conrad Aiken
Image
Death is one dream out of another flowing.
Conrad Aiken
Image
I've tried it long ago, with hashish and peyote. Fascinating, yes, but no good, no. This, as we find in alcohol, is an escape from awareness, a cheat, a momentary substitution, and in the end a destruction of it.
Conrad Aiken
Image
Youth yearns to youth, full blood loves full blood only.
Conrad Aiken
Image
The hiss was now becoming a roar - the whole world was a vast moving screen of snow - but even now it said peace, it said remoteness, it said cold, it said sleep.
Conrad Aiken
Image
I began by doing book reviews on the typewriter and then went over to short stories on the machine, meanwhile sticking to pencil for poetry.
Conrad Aiken
Image
We are the ghosts of the singing furies .
Conrad Aiken
Image
The wind shrieks, the wind grieves It dashes the leaves on walls, it whirls then again And the enormous sleeper vaguely and stupidly dreams And desires to stir, to resist a ghost of pain.
Conrad Aiken
Image
Death is a meeting place of sea and sea.
Conrad Aiken
Image
My heart has become as hard as a city street, the horses trample upon it, it sings like iron, all day long and all night long they beat, they ring like the hooves of time.
Conrad Aiken
Image
I love you, what star do you live on?
Conrad Aiken
Image
Death is never an ending, death is a change Death is beautiful, for death is strange Death is one dream out of another flowing.
Conrad Aiken
Image
Forward into the untrodden! Courage, old man, and hold on to your umbrella!
Conrad Aiken
Image
Time is a dream ... a destroying dream It lays great cities in dust, it fills the seas It covers the face of beauty, and tumbles walls.
Conrad Aiken
Image
I really don't know enough about the structure of fiction.
Conrad Aiken
Image
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam ... and after a while they will fall to dust and rain or else we will tear them down with impatient hands and hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.
Conrad Aiken
Image
Come back, true love! Sweet youth, return!— But time goes on, and will, unheeding, Though hands will reach, and eyes will yearn, And the wild days set true hearts bleeding.
Conrad Aiken