Category Archives: The Bookcase

(whatever I pull off my shelf)

A little to the left….

“Shut up the world at large, let Bedlam out; And you will be perhaps surprised to find All things pursue exactly the same route, As now with those of soi-disant sound mind. This I could prove beyond a single doubt, … Continue reading

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Both Ends of the Rainbow

The Wrong End Of The Rainbow: Charles Wright It must have been Ischia, Forio d’Ischia. Or Rome. The Pensione Margutta. Or Naples Somewhere, on some dark side street in 1959 With What’s-Her-Name, dear golden-haired What’s-Her-Name. Or Yes-Of-Course In Florence, in … Continue reading

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Love in faith to a lover

“…and the simple truth is that though so much is made of the woman’s beauty in love stories, passion does not require it. Plato’s idea that lovers were originally one person, the two parts having become separated and desiring to … Continue reading

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The Waste Lands, I. The Burial Of The Dead, T.S. Eliot

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering 5 Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers. Summer … Continue reading

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The Palace at 4 A.M.

A spare and strange sculpture found in the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art in New York. In a letter to Matisse, the sculptor Alberto Giacometti describes how  The Palace at 4 A.M.  came into being: “This object … Continue reading

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