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Quote by Elizabeth Hand

“People forget that the colliers didn’t just bring the canaries into the mines to warn them against the poisonous gases. They took them down because they sang so beautifully, even in the dark.”

Quote by Elizabeth Hand

Work

Wylding Hall

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Author

Elizabeth Hand
Elizabeth Hand

Elizabeth Hand, born on March 29, 1957, is an American writer whose works span various literary genres, including novels, short story collections, and poetry. She is known for her unique literary style and profound exploration of supernatural themes. more

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“Every one of us is granted with a pen… an invisible, but the most precious one. With it… you can write your own story. For that, you have an option. You can either write your story yourself or let someone write it for you. You should write it yourself... or at least, don't hand that pen away to someone, who doesn’t deserve it.”

“Muzikoje glūdėjo grožis – grožis ir gėris. Ji liejosi lyg vanduo iš dubens, viena gaida, susipynusi su kita, sudarydavo visumą ir kildavo. Pripildė mane. Muzika nebuvo pašėlusi, bet joje slypėjo galinga aistra, tvinkčiojantis džiaugsmas ir sielvartas. Prispaudžiau kelius prie krūtinės, trokšdama pajusti tvirtą savo odą, net ir išterliotą gličiais dažais. Muzika tiesė taką, kylantį spalvų arkomis. Ėjau juo iš kameros, po medžiais, į atvirą dangų. Muzikos ritmas lyg rankos švelniai stūmė pirmyn, tempė aukštyn, vedė per debesis. Niekada nebuvau regėjusi tokių debesų – minkštuose jų šonuose įžiūrėjau dailius liūdinčius veidus. Jie nyko, nespėjus gerai įsižiūrėti, o aš žvelgiau į tolį, kur mane kvietė muzika. Saulė arba tekėjo, arba leidosi. Debesis ji užliejo violetine ir purpurine spalva, geltoni spinduliai nuauksino mano taką ir pavertė švytinčio metalo juosta. Norėjau joje išnykti, troškau, kad tos saulės spindulys mane sudegintų, užlietų tokiu džiaugsmu, kad ir pati virsčiau saulės spinduliu. Tai nebuvo šokių muzika – buvo giesmė, ji užpildė sielos spragas, vedė ten, kur nebėra skausmo.”

“Looking out over Oxford, Robin had the impression that the whole city was like a finely tuned music box, relying wholly on its silver gears to keep running; and that if the silver ever ran out, if these resonance rods ever collapsed, then the whole of Oxford would stop abruptly in its tracks. The bell towers would go mute, the cabs would halt on the roads, and the townsfolk would freeze in motion on the street, limbs lifted in midair, mouths open in midspeech.”

“Desiree, Snoop Dogg fan since elementary school, had known for a long time that it was possible to limn the line between enthusiasm for form and endorsement of content. One did this every day, for various reasons. "It's an essential, tragic part of being a Black woman in America," Monique might have said. Most things were objectionable if you looked at them up close.”

“My waters rise from the source, deep in the earth, from secret caverns, hidden pockets of spirit. A rumble of bass moves through limestone tunnels, upward and onward, around curves, gathering chords, minor and major, until out flows a song, azure and cerulean, plucked from sunshine and moonbeam. Some say my music echoes your soul, harmonizes with fears and longings, calls forth your own song, until it spills out in liquid jewels. If, of course, you are worthy. My waters sing of death too, a low drumbeat that rattles the bones. There are those of you who bring out the river dragon in me. And my gaping mouth swallows you whole.”