Book detail: Space, in Chains is presented as a focused source page for quotations connected with this book, collection, transcript, or source record.
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“I am the impossibility of desiring the person you pity. And the petal of the Easter lily—”
“To live. I'm not endorsing it.”
“The heart hacked out of the center of an overgrown hedge with an ax To live beyond the brain”
“The self on tiptoes sneaking away from the self.”
“And this letter I didn't send how surprising to find it now. All this love I must have felt.”
“And all the embezzled cents and dollars of the last time I saw you.”
“I, who am doubt now, with a song.”
“Its sweet bird's nest is full of pain in a distant place”
“My eyes closed, hands open, Take it, take it. Then, every day wasted chasing it.”
“And the box inside him in which his mother resides is velvet and black and without size.”
“The physical universe and its buzzing machinery, its fantastical scenery.”
“The urgent warnings: The dreamy terror of certain summer mornings.”
“July, that lovely hell, all velvet dresses and drapes stuffed into a hot little hole.”
“A knife plunged into the center of summer. Air and terror, which become teeth together.”
“Why not the Victorians and their sentimental grief-wreaths woven from a loved one's hair?”
“That to want to succeed is to fail”
“There, tonight. The eternity of that. Swan logic. Swan history.”
“as if we were actual human beings or completely normal people”
“When I built my luminous prison around you, you simply lay down at the center of it and died.”
“The aunts gathered around the fiery cake chanting, Make a wish! Make a wish!”
“There are daisies In the ruined garden, still blooming strangely”
“The day en route to darkness. The guillotine on the way to the neck.”
“So we found ourselves in an ancient place, the very air around us bound by chains.”
“She is ancientness. She has lived forever. It has driven her insane.”
“Fragrant, dreaming, unreal, and having to do, terribly, with love.”
“We would never be together in this life again.”
“A man in the massive shadows of the columns of the Museum of Griefs-to-Come.”
“A man holding a woman made of bad moods in his arms.”
“and the stones, bewitched, can see: The lost hours and into the past.”