“When
it's over, I want to say: all my life
I
was a bride married to amazement.
I
was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When
it is over, I don't want to wonder
if
I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I
don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or
full of argument.
I
don't want to end up simply having visited this world.”
― Mary
Oliver
“The
Poet With His Face In His Hands
You
want to cry aloud for your
mistakes.
But to tell the truth the world
doesn’t
need anymore of that sound.
So
if you’re going to do it and can’t
stop
yourself, if your pretty mouth can’t
hold
it in, at least go by yourself across
the
forty fields and the forty dark inclines
of
rocks and water to the place where
the
falls are flinging out their white sheets
like
crazy, and there is a cave behind all that
jubilation
and water fun and you can
stand
there, under it, and roar all you
want
and nothing will be disturbed; you can
drip
with despair all afternoon and still,
on
a green branch, its wings just lightly touched
by
the passing foil of the water, the thrush,
puffing
out its spotted breast, will sing
of
the perfect, stone-hard beauty of everything.”
― Mary
Oliver
“I
want to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I
want to be light and frolicsome.
I
want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as
though I had wings.”
“You
must not ever stop being whimsical. And you must not, ever, give
anyone else the responsibility for your life.”
― Mary
Oliver, Wild Geese
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