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bell hooks, All About Love

Sophocles, from "Electra: A Tragedy," translated by Anne Carson

[Text ID: “stop fighting, but I am not / fighting. I am noticing / where I don’t exist. / I should leave.”]

Ada Limón, from "Shelter: A Love Letter to Trees," published in June 2022

Bianca Stone, from What Is Otherwise Infinite: Poems; “Set Design”

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star

Emily Dickinson in a letter to Elizabeth Holland wr. c. 20 January 1856

happens, this is.

— Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice

— Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

— Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice

This clear, dark, lovely whistler?

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things.