What did Louise Glück mean by: What was difficult was the travel, which, on arrival, is forgotten. - Louise Glück Poet · USA Copy
+ Honor the words that enter and attach to your brain. Feraz Zeid, July 26, 2023December 12, 2023, Louise Glück, Brain, Honor, 0 - Louise Glück Poet · USA
+ You know what despair is; then winter should have meaning for you. Feraz Zeid, January 13, 2024January 13, 2024, Louise Glück, Despair, Winter, 0 - Louise Glück Poet · USA
+ The unsaid, for me, exerts great power. Feraz Zeid, June 30, 2023December 12, 2023, Louise Glück, Great Power, Unsaid, Writing, 0 - Louise Glück Poet · USA
+ That’s why I’m not to be trusted. Because a wound to the heart is also a wound to the mind Feraz Zeid, January 14, 2024January 14, 2024, Louise Glück, Heart, Mind, Trusted, 0 - Louise Glück Poet · USA
+ Birth, not death, is the hard loss. Feraz Zeid, June 2, 2023December 12, 2023, Louise Glück, Birth, Hard, Loss, 0 - Louise Glück Poet · USA
+ We look at the world once, in childhood. The rest is memory. Feraz Zeid, June 4, 2023December 12, 2023, Louise Glück, Childhood, Memories, 0 - Louise Glück Poet · USA
+ Of two sisters one is always the watcher, one the dancer. Feraz Zeid, July 22, 2023December 12, 2023, Louise Glück, Dance, Sister, 0 - Louise Glück Poet · USA
+ At the end of my suffering/there was a door. Feraz Zeid, June 6, 2023December 12, 2023, Louise Glück, Doors, End, Suffering, 0 - Louise Glück Poet · USA
Every production of an artist should be the expression of an adventure of his soul. - W. Somerset Maugham Playwright and novelist · United Kingdom
Even the one moment that you thought was your eternity fades out and is forgotten and dies. - Jean Rhys Writer · Dominica
Muscles I know; they are my friends. But I have forgotten their names. - Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres Painter · France
[On being the oldest living human being:] God must have forgotten me. - Jeanne Calment Painter · France
Be careful going in search of adventure – it’s ridiculously easy to find. - William Least Heat-Moon Author
The open road is a beckoning, a strangeness, a place where a man can lose himself. - William Least Heat-Moon Author
