these tears are shaken from the wrath-bearing tree
Joined October 2011
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It is a two-way traffic,
the language of the unsaid.
...
It is stunning, it is a moment like no other,
when one’s lover comes in and says I do not love you anymore.
...
Those nights lying alone
are not discontinuous with this cold hectic dawn.
It is who I am.
...
At the middle of the moor
where the ground goes down into a depression,
the ice has begun to unclench.
Black open water comes
curdling up like anger.
...
You remember too much,
my mother said to me recently.
Why hold onto all that? And I said,
Where can I put it down?
Something tells me they are brother and sister, with a childhood in common, an intimacy that was imposed and indisputable.
~ Jhumpa Lahiri, Whereabouts
carol retweeted
We invite authors, editors, translators, publishers, and readers to propose books, films, or other cultural productions for extended featured coverage in @asiancha, including single-author features.
𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: chajournal.com/2026/10/20/op…
。。。。。。
Imaginative literature is produced under the pressure of an inner interrogation...
~ Janet Malcolm, The Silent Woman: Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes
carol retweeted
NEW | If you are looking for a language that probes the meaning of love and grief and all that makes us human, Anne Carson’s books are for you. @SrilataKrishnan writes.
#NobelPrize #Literature
frontline.thehindu.com/books…
"Subbaraj is asking his audience to fix their hearts or die."
Karthik Subbaraj asks his audience to fix their hearts or die. My (very spoilery) review of DOROTHY
livemint.com/mint-lounge/art…
I’ve come to understand that the best one can hope for as a human is to have a relationship with that emptiness where God would be if God were available, but God isn’t.
...
Because no matter what the thought would be if it were fully worked out, it wouldn’t be as good as the suggestion of a thought that the space gives you.
...
It’s a looser place than the center.
...
"It’s just absolute dread. It’s bumping up against the fact that you die alone. You think about that from time to time all through life, and it continues to make no sense against all the little efforts you make to be happy and have friends and pass the time.
...
“I write to find out what I think about something.” —Anne Carson
buff.ly/GMlbtvA
