( via / via )

"If you take Joyce in small doses, say a page at a time, and read him aloud, at least two things are apt to happen. First, the page will disclose a musical value, apart from the meaning of the words. Second, the words themselves begin to call forth in you dozens of confused, vague impressions, associations, memories. This sensation is inchoate and, I feel, meaningless, but it’s interesting.."

"My sister’s love is on yonder side.
The river is between our bodies.
The waters are mighty at [flood],
A crocodile waits in the shallows.
I enter the water and brave the waves,
My heart is strong on the deep;
The crocodile seems like a mouse to me.
The flood as land to my feet.
It is her love that gives me strength,
It makes a water-spell for me;
I gaze at my heart’s desire.
As she stands facing me!
My sister has come, my heart exults,
My arms spread out to embrace her;
My heart bounds in its place.
Like the red fish in its pond.
O night, be mine forever,
Now that my queen has come!"

Translation by Miriam Lichtheim via

"So hydrogen jukebox is murderous innocence."

"Thinking of that time Wendell Berry was invited to give a keynote lecture at a conference on hunger. He looked around at the audience & remarked (I'm paraphrasing here): 'I see a lot of well-fed people.' " —@the-big-quiet.bsky.social

"The loneliness thing is overdone. It formulates something you don’t want formulated."