Balm of the summer night, balm of the ordinary, imperial joy and sorrow of human existence, the dreamed as well as the lived— what could be dearer than this, given the closeness of death? — Louise Glück Copy Share Image
Without thinking, I knelt in the grass, like someone meaning to pray. When I tried to stand again, I couldn't move, my legs were… — Louise Glück Copy Share Image
What I responded to, on the page, was the way a poem could liberate, by means of a word's setting, through subtleties of timing,… — Louise Gluck Copy Share Image
“We look at the world once, in childhood. The rest is memory. from Nostos.” — Louise Gluck Copy Share Image
He takes her in his arms He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you But he thinks this is a lie,… — Louise Glück Copy Share Image
At first I saw you everywhere. Now only in certain things, at longer intervals. — Louise Glück Copy Share Image
Desire, loneliness, wind in the flowering almond— surely these are the great, the inexhaustible subjects to which my predecessors apprenticed themselves. I hear them… — Louise Glück Copy Share Image
“They sat far apart deliberately, to experience, daily, the sweetness of seeing each other across great distance.” — Louise Glück Copy Share Image
Toward his critics, the artist harbors a defensive ace: knowledge that the future will erase the present. — Louise Gluck Copy Share Image
I’m like the child who buries her head in the pillow so as not to see, the child who tells herself that light causes… — Louise Glück Copy Share Image
I am attracted to ellipsis, to the unsaid, to suggestion, to eloquent, deliberate silence. The unsaid, for me, exerts great power: often I wish… — Louise Glück Copy Share Image
“Once I could imagine my soul I could imagine my death. When I imagined my death my soul died. This I remember clearly. My… — Louise Glück Copy Share Image
