When we first meet what we love, we could become poets for our longing. When we are removed from what we love, we become singers of grief and weavers of elegant description. — Martin Prechtel Copy Share Image
“After all, a kiss between real lovers is not some type of contract, a neatly defined moment of pleasure, something obtained by greedy conquest, or any kind of clear saying of how it is. It is a grief-drenched hatching of… — Martin Prechtel Copy Share Image
We live in a kind of dark age, craftily lit with synthetic light, so that no one can tell how dark it has really… — Martin Prechtel Copy Share Image
“Humans are amazing ritual animals, and it must be understood that the Tzutujil, nor any other real intact people, do not 'practice' rituals. Just… — Martin Prechtel Copy Share Image
“Turn that worthless lawn into a beautiful garden of food whose seeds are stories sown, whose foods are living origins. Grow a garden on… — Martin Prechtel Copy Share Image
God must be a smell, one of those delicious dreamy aromas that float into the soul on the warm hopeful days of spring. What… — Martin Prechtel Copy Share Image
“I had drunk so deeply of grief and innocently gambled so hard with fate and irony that a special kind of vision was gathering… — Martin Prechtel Copy Share Image
That's what makes you a human being---that willingness to sing another one free. — Martin Prechtel Copy Share Image
“Is it not a magical thing, this life, when just a little ash, cinder, and unclear water can arrange themselves into a beautiful old… — Martin Prechtel Copy Share Image
When we first meet what we love, we could become poets for our longing. When we are removed from what we love, we become… — Martin Prechtel Copy Share Image
“After all, a kiss between real lovers is not some type of contract, a neatly defined moment of pleasure, something obtained by greedy conquest,… — Martin Prechtel Copy Share Image
