Quote

The fallen hazel-nuts, Stripped late of their green sheaths, The grapes, red-purple, Their berries Dripping with wine, Pomegranates already broken, And shrunken fig, And quinces untouched, I bring thee as offering.

Hilda Doolittle

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Hilda Doolittle
Berries
Thee
Stripped
Quince
Wine
Shrunken
Green
Grapes
Pomegranates
Late
Purple
Hazel
Broken
Offering
Figs
Already
Nuts
Untouched
Bring
Fallen
Dripping
Red

More quotes by Hilda Doolittle

Image
The things I have are nameless, old and true they may not be named few may live and know.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Long hours trail in their purple and long years are lost in just this moment while our souls are near, our mouths separate.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
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
Image
The whole white world is ours.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Luminous, unfearful high-priestesses, our fervour shall banish all evil.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
But beauty is set apart, beauty is cast by the sea, a barren rock, beauty is set about with wrecks of ships.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
I spit honey out of my mouth: nothing is second-best after the sweet of Eros.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Love has no charm when Love is swept to earth: you'd make a lop-winged god, frozen and contrite, of god up-darting, winged for passionate flight.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
A slight wind shakes the seed-pods my thoughts are spent as the black seeds.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
I fear no man, no woman flower does not fear bird, insect nor adder.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
When the shingles hissed in the rain incendiary, other values were revealed to us
Hilda Doolittle
Image
I testify to rainbow feathers, to the span of heaven and walls of colour, the colonnades of jasper.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
She did not look at the daffodils. They didn't mean anything. She looked at the daffodils. She said, 'Thank you for the daffodils.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Take what the old-church found in Mithra's tomb, candle and script and bell, take what the new-church spat upon and broke and shattered.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Light threatens, is active, is gone, so it is with a song.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
For this beauty, beauty without strength, chokes out life.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Dance until the earth dance.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Ardent yet chill and formal, how I ache to tempt a chisel as a sculptor.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
(Those women whom the distaff no longer claims nor spun cloth) driven made, mad, mad by Bacchus.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Lift up our eyes to you? no, God, we stare and stare, upon a nearer thing that greets us here, Death, violent and near.
Hilda Doolittle