Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
My eye-balls are glass, my limbs marble, my face fixed in its marble mask.
Hilda Doolittle
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
Hilda Doolittle
Balls
Magic
Face
Marble
Faces
Limbs
Eye
Mask
Glass
Glasses
Fixed
More quotes by Hilda Doolittle
The heart the heart the heart how it thrives on hate.
Hilda Doolittle
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
When the shingles hissed in the rain incendiary, other values were revealed to us
Hilda Doolittle
Dance until the earth dance.
Hilda Doolittle
Luminous, unfearful high-priestesses, our fervour shall banish all evil.
Hilda Doolittle
War is a fevered god who takes alike maiden and king and clod.
Hilda Doolittle
Let Love step down, open the clasped hands, forfeit the thorny crown, retrieve the garment that was whole, body and spirit one, spirit and soul.
Hilda Doolittle
A slight wind shakes the seed-pods my thoughts are spent as the black seeds.
Hilda Doolittle
Lovers may come and go, there was the memory of blood, the low call.
Hilda Doolittle
Ardent yet chill and formal, how I ache to tempt a chisel as a sculptor.
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
There's a black rose growing in your garden.
Hilda Doolittle
The elixir of life, the philosopher's stone is yours if you surrender sterile logic, trivial reason.
Hilda Doolittle
For you are abstract, making no mistake, slurring no word in the rhythm you make, the poem, writ in the air.
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
Light threatens, is active, is gone, so it is with a song.
Hilda Doolittle
I testify to rainbow feathers, to the span of heaven and walls of colour, the colonnades of jasper.
Hilda Doolittle
In my garden the winds have beaten the ripe lilies in my garden, the salt has wilted the first flakes of young narcissus.
Hilda Doolittle
Words were her plague and words were her redemption.
Hilda Doolittle