Some writings that chase an autumn mood, a dull melancholy held close by a hopeful grasp. The titles an spacing are mine. The authors, where applicable, are listed below.



On the soul

That part which we say dwells in the summit of our body
and lifts us from earth toward our celestial affinity,
like a plant whose roots are not in earth but in the heavens,
whence the soul first came to birth,
that divine part attaches the head or root of us
and keeps the whole body upright.
- Plato

Wonderful Things

It is a wonderful thing that sorrow and peace can be conjoined. It is the fullest sorrow that removes me from myself through an impossible movement.

It is a wonderful thing that art can lift and twirl one about a circumfession:A possible impossible confession. The truth which can only be manifest.
- Author Unknown

The Inn and Key

O you who travel down Love’s way
Stop a while and say
If a grief can be found like mine;
I ask you only to hear my song
And then think long
If I am the inn and key to every pain.
[....]
So I wishing to do like those
Who conceal their lack from shame,
To all the world proclaim
But my heart still wastes in woes.
- Dante