Quote

The elixir of life, the philosopher's stone is yours if you surrender sterile logic, trivial reason.

Hilda Doolittle

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Hilda Doolittle
Surrender
Philosopher
Logic
Stones
Magic
Elixir
Faith
Sterile
Reason
Trivial
Life
Stone

More quotes by Hilda Doolittle

Image
Ardent yet chill and formal, how I ache to tempt a chisel as a sculptor.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Maid of the luminous grey-eyes, Mistress of honey and marble implacable white thighs and Goddess, chaste daughter of Zeus.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Love is a garment riven in the light that rises from Parnassus, showing the night is over.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
War is a fevered god who takes alike maiden and king and clod.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
Words were her plague and words were her redemption.
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
I myself have seen the floating ships And nothing will ever be the same The shouts, The harrowing voices within the house. I stand apart with an army: My mind is graven with ships.
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
War wreaked on you his hideous ravishment We, we alone, Nereids inviolate, Remain to weep, with the sea-birds to chant: Corinth is lost, Corinth is desolate.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
My eye-balls are glass, my limbs marble, my face fixed in its marble mask.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
It is no madness to say you will fall, you great cities.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
No poetic phantasy but a biological reality, a fact: I am an entity like bird, insect, plant or sea-plant cell I live I am alive.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
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
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
Sing and your hell is heaven, your heaven less hell.
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
The things I have are nameless, old and true they may not be named few may live and know.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
There must be real gods see, the painted gods how fair!
Hilda Doolittle
Image
I testify to rainbow feathers, to the span of heaven and walls of colour, the colonnades of jasper.
Hilda Doolittle
Image
(Those women whom the distaff no longer claims nor spun cloth) driven made, mad, mad by Bacchus.
Hilda Doolittle