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Splits Quotes

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Splits Quotes

“With Head Off & Split, Nikky Finney establishes herself as one of the most eloquent, urgent, fearless and necessary poets writing in America today. What makes this book as important as anything published in the last decade is the irresistible music, the formal dexterity and the imaginative leaps she makes with metaphor and language in these simply stunning poems. This is a very, very important achievement.”

WritingImportantBookTodayLastsAmericaLanguagePoetAchievementMetaphorDecadesFearlessLeapSplitsFormalImaginativeUrgentIrresistibleEloquentStunningAmerica TodayDexterity
Author:Kwame Dawes
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“Post-​wounded women know that postures of pain play into limited and outmoded conceptions of womanhood. Their hurt has a new native language spoken in several dialects: sarcastic, jaded, opaque; cool and clever. They guard against those moments when melodrama or self-​pity might split their careful seams of intellect, expose the shame of self-​absorption without self-​awareness.”

KnowsSelfPlayMomentsMightPainLanguageHurtAwarenessShameSelf AwarenessCarefulIntellectCleverPityPostsNativeSarcasticConceptionSplitsWoundedWomanhoodPostureSelf PityAbsorptionJadedDialectMelodramaSelf AbsorptionOpaqueNative Language
Author:Leslie Jamison
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“We saw the strong trees struggle and their plumes do down, The poplar bend and whip back till it split to fall, The elm tear up at the root and topple like a crown, The pine crack at the base - we had to watch them all. The ash, the lovely cedar. We had to watch them fall. They went so softly under the loud flails of air, Before that fury they went down like feathers, With all the hundred springs that flowered in their hair, and all the years, endured in all the weathers - To fall as if they were nothing, as if they were feathers.”

IfsYearsFallStrongWatchesStruggleSawsAirTreeTearsHairSpringHundredRootsLovelyWeatherLoudCracksSplitsCrownsAshesFeathersFuryWhipsLife StruggleCedars
Author:May Sarton
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“A muddy little stream, a village grown unfamiliar with time and trees. I turn around and retrace my way up Main Street and park and have a Coke in the confectionery store. It is run by a Greek, as it used to be, but whether the same Greek or another I would not know. He does not recognize me, nor I him. Only the smell of his place is familiar, syrupy with old delights, as if the ghost of my first banana split had come close to breathe on me.”

IfsKnowsWayFirstsLittlesDoeRunningUsedTurnsTreeStreetsDelightSmellBreatheStoresGhostFamiliarUsed To BeMy WayGreekStreamsParksVillageSplitsBananasUnfamiliarCokeMuddyMain StreetBanana Splits
Book:Wolf Willow: A History, a Story, and a Memory of the Last Plains Frontier
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“On the train: staring hypnotized at the blackness outside the window, feeling the incomparable rhythmic language of the wheels, clacking out nursery rhymes, summing up moments of the mind like the chant of a broken record: god is dead, god is dead. going, going, going. and the pure bliss of this, the erotic rocking of the coach. France splits open like a ripe fig in the mind; we are raping the land, we are not stopping.”

MindMomentsFeelingsLanguageRecordsLandBrokenPureWindowTrainCoachesFranceStaringBlissWheelsNurseSplitsRhymeStoppingEroticRipeBlacknessNurseryIncomparableFigsGod Is DeadNursery RhymesSumming UpPure Bliss
Book:The Journals of Sylvia Plath
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“Venerable are letters, infinitely brave, forlorn, and lost. Life would split asunder without them. 'Come to tea, come to dinner, what's the truth of the story? have you heard the news? life in the capital is wonderful; the Russian dancers....' These are our stays and props. These lace our days together and make of life a perfect globe.”

StoriesTogetherLostPerfectWonderfulHeardNewsLettersBraveDinnerTeaDancerSplitsGlobesPropsLaceForlorn
Author:Virginia Woolf
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