PolyArchive

That’s my Middle West—not the wheat or the prairies or the lost Swede towns, but the thrilling returning trains of my youth, and the street lamps and sleigh bells in the frosty dark and the shadows of holly wreaths thrown by lighted windows on the snow. –F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

One Art Elizabeth Bishop The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master. Then practice losing […]

“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.” ― Albert Schweitzer  

This is my passion, you know? This is the essence of who I am now. But before I had this, I was lost, too. You see what I’m saying? You need to find your reason for living. You’ve got to find your big, gigantic drum kit. — Nick Andopolis (Jason Segel), Freaks and Geeks Related […]

In the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And an outstanding reason for choosing some sort of God or spiritual-type thing to worship — be it J.C. or Allah, […]

So when you realise you’ve gone a few weeks and haven’t felt that awful struggle of your childish self — struggling to lift itself out of its inadequacy and incompetence — you’ll know you’ve gone some weeks without meeting new challenge, and without growing, and that you’ve gone some weeks towards losing touch with yourself. […]

In Memory of W. B. Yeats W. H. Auden I He disappeared in the dead of winter: The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted, And snow disfigured the public statues; The mercury sank in the mouth of the dying day. What instruments we have agree The day of his death was a dark cold […]

Instructions Eavan Boland To write about age you need to take something and break it. (This is an art which has always loved young women. And silent ones.) A branch, perhaps, girlish with blossom. Snapped off. Close to the sap. Then cut through a promised summer. Continue. Cut down to the root. The spring afternoon […]

I haven’t seen my spinner ring in quite a while. I wonder where it is. It was a silver ring with a band in the center that had a kind of antique-y looking braid carved in relief on it. It was from back when Kohl’s sold sterling silver that was actually quite decent for less […]

Everyone was talking about seeing the aurora borealis this past week. It was a reminder that this thing I love and obsess about is something many other people love and obsess about as well. I saw the northern lights when I was 6 years old, and I have never recovered. I will never rest until […]