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Dance until the earth dance.
Hilda Doolittle
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Hilda Doolittle
Dancing
Dance
Earth
More quotes by Hilda Doolittle
I testify to rainbow feathers, to the span of heaven and walls of colour, the colonnades of jasper.
Hilda Doolittle
Until it seems the whole city will be covered with gold pollen shaken from the bell-towers, lilies plundered with the weight of massive bees . . .
Hilda Doolittle
I could not accept from wisdom what love taught, woman is perfect.
Hilda Doolittle
Love is a garment riven in the light that rises from Parnassus, showing the night is over.
Hilda Doolittle
Luminous, unfearful high-priestesses, our fervour shall banish all evil.
Hilda Doolittle
Could beauty be beaten out, O youth the cities have sent to strike at each other's strength, it is you who have kept her alight.
Hilda Doolittle
The stallion and his mare, unbridled, with arrow-pattern, are worked on. the blue cloth before the door of religion and inspiration.
Hilda Doolittle
The elixir of life, the philosopher's stone is yours if you surrender sterile logic, trivial reason.
Hilda Doolittle
The race may or may not be to the swift, but tell me, is it likely that the fight will be entrusted to the dead?
Hilda Doolittle
Lovers may come and go, there was the memory of blood, the low call.
Hilda Doolittle
When the shingles hissed in the rain incendiary, other values were revealed to us
Hilda Doolittle
Ardent yet chill and formal, how I ache to tempt a chisel as a sculptor.
Hilda Doolittle
Cheat me not with time, with the dull ache of flesh, for all flesh turns, even the loveliest ankle and frail thigh, to bitterest dust.
Hilda Doolittle
Light threatens, is active, is gone, so it is with a song.
Hilda Doolittle
But beauty is set apart, beauty is cast by the sea, a barren rock, beauty is set about with wrecks of ships.
Hilda Doolittle
There must be real gods see, the painted gods how fair!
Hilda Doolittle
Love, why have you sought the horde of spearsmen, why the tent Achilles pitched beside the river-ford?
Hilda Doolittle
Pompeii has nothing to teach us, we know crack of volcanic fissure, slow flow of terrible lava, pressure on heart, lungs, the brain about to burst its brittle case (what the skull can endure!)
Hilda Doolittle
Sing and your hell is heaven, your heaven less hell.
Hilda Doolittle
I spit honey out of my mouth: nothing is second-best after the sweet of Eros.
Hilda Doolittle