Quote

When the shingles hissed in the rain incendiary, other values were revealed to us

Hilda Doolittle

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Hilda Doolittle
Shingles
Hissed
Revealed
Perception
Rain
Understanding
Values
War
Incendiary

More quotes by Hilda Doolittle

Image
Love, why have you sought the horde of spearsmen, why the tent Achilles pitched beside the river-ford?
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
Light threatens, is active, is gone, so it is with a song.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Ardent yet chill and formal, how I ache to tempt a chisel as a sculptor.
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
I will be free, no lover's kiss to bind me to earth, no bliss of love to counteract actual bliss.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
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
Image
Words were her plague and words were her redemption.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
My eye-balls are glass, my limbs marble, my face fixed in its marble mask.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
There is no man can take, there is no pool can slake, ultimately I am alone ultimately I am done.
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
Image
The whole white world is ours.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
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
Image
The stallion and his mare, unbridled, with arrow-pattern, are worked on. the blue cloth before the door of religion and inspiration.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
The heart the heart the heart how it thrives on hate.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Lovers may come and go, there was the memory of blood, the low call.
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
For you are abstract, making no mistake, slurring no word in the rhythm you make, the poem, writ in the air.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Sing and your hell is heaven, your heaven less hell.
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