poetry and writings @saving-words - Tumblr Blog

Edna St. Vincent Millay, in a letter to her mother Cora, from Savage Beauty: The Life of Edna St. Vincent Millay (written by Nancy Milford)

On all my limbs were spells of love.

VIDYĀPATI (विद्यापति) — Love Songs of Vidyapati [Ed. W. G. Archer], transl. by Deben Bhattacharya, (1970)

Charles Baudelaire, “Head Of Hair”

“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

— Ernest Hemingway

I feel haunted by a terrifying melancholy which I struggle wildly to kill—and I can’t. I feel waylaid by madness

Anaïs Nin, Nearer the Moon: From "A Journal of Love": The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1937-1939

In her eyes shone the sweetness of melancholy.

Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out

Vladimir Nabokov, in a letter to Vera Slonim, written c. January 1924 featured in Letters to Véra

“Holiness gleams on my dirty fingers,”

— Margaret Atwood, from Half-Hanged Mary in “Morning In The Burned House” (via adrasteiax)

“Dealing with other people reminds me of why I like to be alone.”

— Raine Cooper

“….Who wouldn’t want you? Whose most demonic appetite could you possibly fail to answer?”

— Louise Gluck, from “Persephone’s Song”

"The Brothers Karamazov", Fyodor Dostoevsky (translated by Constance Garnett)

She never said much, she was a melancholy creature,

Angela Carter, Nights at the Circus

from Mary Shelley’s journal, February 25, 1822

Anne Michaels, from "Correspondences: Poems and Portraits," originally published in 2013

𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟶-𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹

“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

— Ernest Hemingway

Why do I choose people who don’t choose me?

k.b. // olga myko - use me

poetry and writings