
The Quiet Machine by Ada Limón
From The Blue Castle by Lucy Maud Montgomery (1926).
“Why does the third of the three brothers, who shares his food with the old woman in the wood, go on to become king of the country? Why does James Bond manage to disarm the nuclear bomb a few seconds before it goes off rather than, as it were, a few seconds afterwards? Because a universe where that did not happen would be a dark and hostile place. Let there be goblin hordes, let there be terrible environmental threats, let there be giant mutated slugs if you really must, but let there also be hope. It may be a grim, thin hope, an Arthurian sword at sunset, but let us know that we do not live in vain.”
— Terry Pratchett, “Let There Be Dragons” (A Slip of the Keyboard)
“It all matters. That someone turns out the lamp, picks up the windblown wrapper, says hello to the invalid, pays at the unattended lot, listens to the repeated tale, folds the abandoned laundry, plays the game fairly, tells the story honestly, acknowledges help, gives credit, says good night, resists temptation, wipes the counter, waits at the yellow, makes the bed, tips the maid, remembers the illness, congratulates the victor, accepts the consequences, takes a stand, steps up, offers a hand, goes first, goes last, chooses the small portion, teaches the child, tends to the dying, comforts the grieving, removes the splinter, wipes the tear, directs the lost, touches the lonely, is the whole thing. What is most beautiful is least acknowledged. What is worth dying for is barely noticed.”
— Laura McBride, We Are Called to Rise (via beeghosts)
Every day, they save the world.
“How to think of something, purely, lightly; without unconsciously abusing or altering the very thought?”
— Susan Sontag, from Reborn: Journals and Notebooks
There is nothing more. That is all there is.
—
some people are just
bad in the blood, baby,
some people’s hearts pump
kerosene, gasoline,
thick hot tar.some people bleed tree sap,
maple syrup,
grape juice or superglue
or clean river water –some people scrape their knees
and watch champagne bubble up
through their skin.i bite my tongue –
my frostbitten tongue -
and i taste salt brine.do your veins run hot, my love?
do your bloody knuckles steam?
can you teach me how to thaw
the ice floe lodged between my ribs?
The most impactful moments of my life have been the clean ones. The clean streets in the early a.m. hours—the town is mine to own. The blank pages—no story yet written. The new friendship, the new name, the new pair of eyes staring into mine and I can be whoever I want from now on.
Have you ever heard the wonderful silence just before the dawn? Or the quiet and calm just as a storm ends? Or perhaps you know the silence when you haven’t the answer to a question you’ve been asked, or the hush of a country road at night, or the expectant pause of a room full of people when someone is just about to speak, or, most beautiful of all, the moment after the door closes and you’re alone in the whole house? Each one is different, you know, and all very beautiful if you listen carefully.
Norton Juster
, The Phantom Tollbooth(via thelovejournals)