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The whole white world is ours.
Hilda Doolittle
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Hilda Doolittle
Whole
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More quotes by Hilda Doolittle
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
You are wind in a stark tree, you are the stark tree unbent, you are a strung bow, you are an arrow.
Hilda Doolittle
Lovers may come and go, there was the memory of blood, the low call.
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
The elixir of life, the philosopher's stone is yours if you surrender sterile logic, trivial reason.
Hilda Doolittle
Sing and your hell is heaven, your heaven less hell.
Hilda Doolittle
I testify to rainbow feathers, to the span of heaven and walls of colour, the colonnades of jasper.
Hilda Doolittle
(Those women whom the distaff no longer claims nor spun cloth) driven made, mad, mad by Bacchus.
Hilda Doolittle
Words were her plague and words were her redemption.
Hilda Doolittle
I spit honey out of my mouth: nothing is second-best after the sweet of Eros.
Hilda Doolittle
Passionate grave thought, belief enhanced, ritual returned and magic.
Hilda Doolittle
There must be real gods see, the painted gods how fair!
Hilda Doolittle
We are voyagers, discoverers of the not-known, the unrecorded we have no map possibly we will reach haven, heaven.
Hilda Doolittle
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
Love, why have you sought the horde of spearsmen, why the tent Achilles pitched beside the river-ford?
Hilda Doolittle
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
My eye-balls are glass, my limbs marble, my face fixed in its marble mask.
Hilda Doolittle
I could not accept from wisdom what love taught, woman is perfect.
Hilda Doolittle
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
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