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Quote by Anthony Liccione

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Anthony Liccione

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“And sometimes if I want To imagine I’m a lamb (Or a whole flock Spreading out all over the hillside So I can be a lot of happy things at the same time), It’s only because I feel what I write at sunset, Or when a cloud passes its hand over the light And silence runs over the grass outside. When I sit and write poems Or, walking along the roads or pathways, I write poems on the paper in my thoughts, I feel a staff in my hand And see my silhouette On top of a knoll, Looking after my flock and seeing my ideas, Or looking after my ideas and seeing my flock, With a silly smile like someone who doesn’t understand what somebody’s saying But tries to pretend they do.”

NatureSadnessBeingPaganismNature Of ManAt Peace
Book:The Keeper of Sheep
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“No matter how troubled the nights were, however, the days were extraordinary... pleasure filled, serene, imparting a sense of well-being that Christopher hadn't felt in years. There was something about the light in the Cotswolds, a smooth opalescence that covered the hills and farmland in a soft binding. The morning usually began with sun, the sky gradually thickening to clouds in the afternoon. Later in the day, rain fell on the brilliant autumn leaves and gave them a boiled-sugar glaze, and drew out a dark, fresh scent from the loam and clay.”

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Book:Love in the Afternoon
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“As people began to congregate around the door, Tiana made her way to the closest window. She gasped at the sight on the other side of the glass. The fog had thinned, but only in the area surrounding their house, and flower petals rained from the sky. They collected on the ground like a colorful snowfall. Tiana closed her eyes, a gentle smile touching her lips. She was at peace, because her daddy was now at peace.”

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Book:Almost There
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“I should have moved on, but I loved it here. I felt like a Romantic poet or Thoreau by his pond. I imagined myself chasing fair maidens barefoot through the trees and drinking from fresh streams. One can build their own life here without feeling the pressures of the outside." Lee had never seen her hometown through this filter. Mr. Hall seemed to see everything through gossamer, the town's crumbling school and faded American flags shimmering like gasoline in water.”

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Book:Strange Folk
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