I can wade grief,
Whole pools of it,
I’m used to that.
But the least push of joy
Breaks up my feet,
And I tip – drunken.
Let no pebble smile,
‘T was the new liquor,
That was all!
Power is only pain,
Stranded, through discipline,
Till weights will hang.
Give balm to giants,
And they’ll wilt, like men.
Give Himmaleh, –
They ‘ll carry him!
Emily Dickinson, Poems: Series 2, Poem 9, The Test
A fairly helpful discussion/analysis can be found here:
“Is the spring coming?” he said. “What is it like?”…
“It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine…”
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden
Colored in Pigment (an iOS app) on an Apple iPad Pro.
“April is the cruelest month, breeding
lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
memory and desire, stirring
dull roots with spring rain.”
~ T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land
“Spring is the time of year when it is summer in the sun and winter in the shade.”
~ Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
I think being a woman is like being Irish… Everyone says you’re important and nice, but you take second place all the time.
~ Iris Murdoch
Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy. ~ W.B. Yeats
I’m Irish!…When I feel well I feel better than anyone, when I am in pain I yell at the top of my lungs, and when I am dead I shall be deader than anybody.
~ Morgan Llywelyn
Today I choose life. Every morning when I wake up I can choose joy, happiness, negativity, pain…
To feel the freedom that comes from being able to continue to make mistakes and choices – today I choose to feel life, not to deny my humanity but embrace it.
~ Kevyn Aucoin
Let me tonight look back across the span
Twixt dawn and dark, and to my conscience say
Because of some good act to beast or man
The world is better that I lived today.
~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox
May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun
And find your shoulder to light on,
To bring you luck, happiness and riches
Today, tomorrow and beyond.