Overblog Suivre ce blog
Administration Créer mon blog

ORR: Sylvia, what started you writing poetry? PLATH: I don't know what started me, I just wrote it from the time was quite small. I guess I liked nursery rhymes and I guess I thought I could do the same thing. I wrote my first poem, my first published...

No one likes us I don't know why. We may not be perfect But heaven knows we try. But all around even our old friends put us down. Let's drop the big one and see what happens. We give them money But are they grateful? No they're spiteful And they're hateful....

First he said: It is the woman in us That makes us write-- Let us acknowledge it-- Men would be silent. We are not men Therefore we can speak And be conscious (of the two sides) Unbent by the sensual As befits accuracy. I then said: Dare you make this...

I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle. Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one discovers in it after all, a place for the genuine. Hands that can grasp, eyes that can dilate, hair that can rise...

les silhouettes noires des arbres s’enfuyaient comme une armée en déroute. Nous traversâmes une forêt d’un sombre si opaque et si glacial, que je me sentis courir sur la peau un frisson de superstitieuse terreur. Les aigrettes d’étincelles que les fers...

I On allait là, chaque soir, vers onze heures, comme au café, simplement. Ils s'y retrouvaient à six ou huit, toujours les mêmes, non pas des noceurs, mais des hommes honorables, des commerçants, des jeunes gens de la ville ; et l'on prenait sa chartreuse...

Afficher plus d'articles

<< < 1100 1110 1120 1130 1131 1132 1133 1134 1135 1136 1137 1138 1139 1140 1150 1160 1170 1180 1190 > >>