ENG 270B Quotes for Final BOOK E

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" So cant be saved, as Saint Mark says they mustn't. (I stole the goblet from the children's playhouse) Here are your waters and your watering place. Drink and be whole again beyond confusion."

Directive Robert Frost

"Back out of all this now too much for us, Back in a time made simple by the loss Of detail, burned, dissolved, and broken off Like graveyard marble sculpture in the weather, there is a house that is no more a house Upon a farm that is no more a farm And in a town that is no more a town."

Directive Robert Frost

"Meatball." Sandor Rojas yelled from the kitchen. "Somebody is trying to come into the window. A burglar, i think. A second-story man," "What are you worrying about,"Meatball said. "we're on the third floor." He loped back into the kitchen. A shaggy woebegone figure stood out no the fire escape, raking his fingernails down the window plane. Meatball opened the window. "saul," he said

Entrophy Thomas Pynchon

But for three days now, despite the changeful weather, the mercury had stayed at 37 degrees Fahrenheit. Leery at omens of apocalypse, Callisto shifted beneath the covers. His fingers pressed the bird more firmly, as if needing some pulsing or suffering assurance of an early break in the temperature.

Entrophy Thomas Pynchon

Downstairs, Meatball Mulligan's lease- breakingaprty was moving into it's 40th hour. On the kitchen floor, amid a letter of empty champagne fifths, were Sandor Rojas and three friends, playing spit in the ocean and staying awake on Heidseek and benzedrine pills.

Entrophy Thomas Pynchon

Meatball stood there and watched, scratching his stomach lazily. The way he figured, there were only about two ways he could cope: (a) lock himself in the closet and maybe eventually they would all go away, or (b) try to calm everybody down, one by one, (a) was certainly the more attractive alternative. But then he started thinking about that coset. it was dark and stuffy and he would be alone. He did not feature being alone. And then this crew... it was that happened he would be, at the very least, embarrassed.

Entrophy Thomas Pynchon

Everything is holy ! everybody is holy ! everywhere is holy ! everyday is in eternity ! Everyman's an angel !

Footnote to Howl Allen Ginsberg

Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!

Howl Allen Ginsberg

Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!

Howl Allen Ginsberg

who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought they were growing old and cried

Howl Allen Ginsberg

who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding instantaneous lobotomy

Howl Allen Ginsberg

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, Dragging themselves thorough the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix angle headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of the night,

Howl Allen Ginsberg

China under junk-withdrawal in Newark's bleak furnished room, who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts,

Howl Allen Ginsberg

Im with you in rockland in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the western night

Howl Allen Ginsberg

I don't want realism. I want magic! [Mitch laughs] Yes, yes, magic! I try to give that to people. I misrepresent things to them. I don't tell the truth, I tell what ought to be truth. And if that is sinful, then let me be damned for it! - Don't turn the light on!

A Streetcar named Desire Tennessee williams

Not God but a swastika so black no sky could squeak through. Everywoman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you

Daddy Sylvia Plath

"In my time," said the grandmother, folding her thin veined fingers," children were more respectful of their native states and their parents and everything else. People did right then. Oh look at the cute little pickaninny!"

A Good man is hard to find Flannery O'Connor

"As soon as the children saw that they could move their arms and their legs, they scrambled out of the car shouting, "We've had an ACCIDENT!" the grandmother was curled up under the dashboard, hoping she was injured so that Bailey's wrath would not come down on her all at once. The horrible thought she had before the accident was that the house she had remembered so vividly was not in Georgia but in Tennessee.

A Good man is hard to find Flannery O'Connor

...You know I haven't put on one ounce in ten years, Stella? I weigh what I weighed the summer you left Belle Reve. The summer Dad died and you left us...

A STREET CAR NAMED DESIRE TENNESSEE WILLIAMS

"Then you'll know what you done and you can hold up the crime of the punishment and see do they match and in the end you'll have something to prove you aint been treated right. I call myself The Misfit," he said, "because I cant make what all i done wrong fit what all I gone through in punishment."

A good man is hard to find Flannery O'Connor

" Jesus was the only One that ever raised the dead." The Misfit continued, "and He shouldn't have done it. He thrown everything off balance. If He did what He said, then its nothing for you to do but throw away everything and follow Him, and if He didn't, then its nothing for you to do but enjoy the few minutes you got left the best way you can- By killing somebody or burning down his house or doing some other meanness to him."

A good man is hard to find Flannery O'Connor

She saw the man's face twisted close to her own as if he were going to cry and she murmured, "Why you're one of my babies. You're one of my own children!" She reached out and touched him on the shoulder. The misfit sprang back as if a snake had bitten him and shot her three times through the chest."

A good man is hard to find Flannery O'Connor

"She would of been a good woman," The misfit said, if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life."

A good man is hard to fond Flannery O'Connor

Its my lunch hour, so i go for a walk among the hum-colored cabs. First, down the sidewalk where laborers feed heir dirty glistening torsos sandwiches and coca-cola, with yellow helmets on. They protect them from falling bricks, i guess.

A step Away from Them Frank O'Hara

A glass of papaya juice and back to work. My heart is in my pocket, it is Poems by Pierre Reverdy.

A step away from them Frank O'Hara

But is the earth as full as life was full, of them?

A step away from them Frank O'Hara

"And turn that over-light off! Turn that off! I won't be looked at in this merciless glare!"

A streetcar named desire Tennessee Williams

Animal joy in his being is implicit in all his movements and attitudes. Since earliest manhood the center of his life has been pleasure with women, the giving and taking of it, not with weak indulgence, dependently, but with the power and pride of a richly feathered male bird among hens. [...] He sizes women up with a glance, with sexual clarifications, crude images flashing into his mind and determining the way he smiles at them.

A streetcar named desire Tennessee Williams

MEXICAN WOMAN Flores. BLANCHE Death—I used to sit here and she used to sit over there and death was as closer as you are... We didn't even admit we had ever heard of it. MEXICAN WOMAN Flores para los muertos, flores—flores... BLANCHE The opposite is desire.

A streetcar named desire Tennessee Williams

STELLA But there are things that happen between a man and a woman in the dark - that sort of make everything else seem - unimportant. [Pause] BLANCHE What you are talking about is brutal desire - just - Desire! - the name of that rattle-trap street-car that bans through the Quarter, up one old narrow street and down another...

A streetcar named desire Tennessee Williams

"sun, dont go!" I was awake at last. "No, go I must, they're calling me." "Who are they?" Rising he said "Some day you'll know. They're calling to you too." Darkly he rose, and then I slept.

A true account of talking to the sun at fire island Frank O'Hara

"Frankly I wanted to tell you I like your poetry, i see alot on my rounds and you're okay. You may not be the greatest thing on earth, but youre different. Now i've heard some say you're crazy, they being excessively calm themselves to my mind, and other crazy poets think that you're a boring reactionary, Not me.

A true account of talking to the sun at fire island Frank O'Hara

And dont worry about your lineage poetic or natural. The sun shines on the jungle, you know, on the tundra the sea, the ghetto. Wherever you were I knew it and saw you moving. I was waiting for you to get to work.

A true account of talking to the sun at fire island Frank O'Hara

The sun woke me this morning loud and clear, saying "Hey! I've been Trying to wake you up for fifteen minutes. Dont be so rude, you are only the second poet I've ever chosen to speak to personally

A true account of talking to the sun at fire island Frank O'Hara

" Cherish in hand, lift down and not let fall. For all That struct the the earth no matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble, Went surely to the cider-apple heap As of no worth. "

After Apple- Picking Robert Frost

"This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is. Were he not gone, The woodchuck could say whatever it's like his Long sleep, as i describe its coming on, Or just some human sleep."

After Apple-Picking Robert Frost

" Upon my way to sleep before it fell, And i could tell What form my dreaming was about to take."

After Apple-Picking Robert Frost

"My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree Towards heaven still."

After Apple-Picking Robert Frost

There's a stake in your fat black heart And the villagers never likes you. They are dancing and stamping on you. they always KNEW it was you. Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm Through.

Daddy Sylvia Plath

You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot Forthirty years, poor and white Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy Sylvia Plath

An engine, an engine Chufing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think i may well be a jew.

Daddy Sylvia Plath

Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they hurried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do.

Daddy Sylvia Plath

In the German tongue, in the polish town, Scraped flat by the roller of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My Polack friend

Daddy Sylvia Plath

i should have gone to flour, saved her, thrown myself on Dutch. But i went stiff with fear and couldn't unlatch myself from the trestles or move at all. I closed mt eyes and put my head in my arms, tried to hide, so there is nothing to describe but what i couldn't block it out, Fleur's horse breath, so loud it filled me, her cry in the old language, and my name repeated over and over among the words.

Fleur Louise Erdrich

Suddenly then, as if seeing the single and unavoidable conclusion to all this she moved swiftly to the window before castillo could speak; tore away the drapes and smashed out the glass with two exquisite hands which came away bleeding and glistening with splinters; and turned to face the man on the bed and wait with him until the moment of equilibrium was reached, when 37 degrees Fahrenheit should prevail both outside and inside, and forever, and the hovering, curious dominant of their separate lives should resolve into a tonic of darkness and the final absence of all motion.

Entrophy Thomas Pynchon

This was in early February of '57 and back then there were alot of American expatriates around Washington D.C., who would talk, every time they met you, about how someday they were going to go over to Europe for real but right now it seemed they were working for the government.

Entrophy Thomas Pynchon

the two of them remained poised like that. for one minute, and two, while the heartbeat ticked a graceful diminuendo down at the last two stillness. Castillo raised his head slowly. "I held him," he protested, impotent with the wonder of it, "to give him the warmth of my body. Almost as if I were communicating life to him, or a sense of life. What has happened?

Entrophy Thomas Pynchon

"Say Fatso," he said, crooning the words. "you reckon that girl's bluffing?" The dog whined and lily laughed. "Me too." He said, "lets show." he swept his bills and coins into the pot and then they turned their cards over. Lily looked again, then he squeezed the dog like a fist of dough and slammed it on the table.

Fleur Louise Erdrich

By saving Fleur Pillager, those two men had lost themselves. The next time she fell in the lake, Fleur Pillager was twenty years old and no one touched her. She washed onshore, her skin a dull dead gray, but when George Many Woman bent to look closer, he saw her chest move. Then her eyes spun open, sharp black rimrock, and she looked at him. "You'll take my place," she hissed.

Fleur Louise Erdrich

I ran straight through screaming for Dutch or for any of them, and then i stopped at the heavy doors of the lockers, where they had surely taken shelter. I stood there a moment. Everything went still. Then I heard a cry building in the wind, faint at first, a whistle and then a shrill scream that tore through the walls and gathered around me, spoke plain so i understood that i should move, put my arms out, and slam down the great iron bar that fit across the hasp and lock.

Fleur Louise Erdrich

Lily couldn't believe, first of all that a woman could be smart enough to play cards, but even is she was that she would be then stupid enough to cheat for a dollar a night

Fleur Louise Erdrich

Since that night she out me in the closet i was no longer afraid of her, but followed her close, stayed with her, became her moving shadow that the men never noticed, the shadow that could have saved her.

Fleur Louise Erdrich

The first time she drowned in the cold and glassy waters of Lake Turcot, Fleur Pillager was only a girl. Two men saw the boat tip, saw her struggle in the waves. They rowed over ro the place she went down, and jumped in. When they dragged her over the gunwales, she was cold to the touch and stiff, so they slapped her face, shook her by the heels, worked her arms back and forth, and pounded her back until she coughed up lake water.

Fleur Louise Erdrich

The girl is bold, smiling in her sleep, as if she know what people wonder, as if she hears the old men talk, turning the story over. It comes up different every time and has no ending, no beginning. They get the middle wrong too. They only know they dont know anything

Fleur Louise Erdrich

They never looked into her sly brown eyes or noticed her teeth, strong and sharp and very white. Her legs were bare, and since she padded in beadwork mossacins they never saw that her fifth toes were missing. They never knew she'd drowned. They were blinded, they were stupid, they only saw her in the flesh.

Fleur Louise Erdrich

"One of the facts that might come to light in this process is our tendency to insist, when we praise a poet, upon those aspects of his work in which he least resembles anyone else. In these aspects or parts of his work we pretend to find what is individual, what is the peculiar essence of the man."

From "Tradition and the Individual talent" T.S. Eliot

" Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things."

From "Tradition and the Individual talent" T.S. Eliot

Dying Is like an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say i've a call. It's easy enough to do it in a cell. It's easy enough to do it and stay put. Its the theatrical

Lady Lazarus Sylvia Plath

Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.

Lady Lazarus Sylvia Plath

Them unwrap me hand and foot- the big strip tease. Gentlemen, ladies These are my hands My Knees. I may be skin and bone, Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman. The first time it happened i was ten. It was an accident

Lady Lazarus Sylvia Plath

To be a woman, to have a daughter in starvation time was a waste enough. My aunt could not have been the lone romantic who gave everything up for sex. Women in the old China did not choose. Some man had commanded her to lie with him and be his secret evil. I wonder wether he masked himself when he joined the raid on her family.

No name woman Maxine Hong Kingston

carrying the baby to the well shows loving. Otherwise abandon it. Turn its face into the mud. Mothers who love their children take them along. It was probably a girl; there is some hope of forgiveness for boys.

No name woman Maxine Hong Kingston

"Hey you! Love me back." I had no idea, though, how to make attraction selective, how to control its direction and magnitude. If I made myself American-pretty so that the five or six Chinese boys in the class fell in love with me, everyone else- the Caucasian, Negro, and Japanese boys- would too.

No name woman Maxine Hong Kingston

"you must not tell anyone," my mother said, "what i am about to tell you. In China your father had a sister who killed herself. She jumped into the family well. We say that your father has all brothers because it is as if she had never been born.

No name woman Maxine Hong Kingston

My aunt haunts me-her ghost drawn to me because now, after 50 years of neglect. I alone devote pages of paper to her, though not origamied into houses and clothes. I do not think she always means me well. I am telling on her, and she was a spite suicide, drowning herself in the drinking water. The Chinese are always very frightened of the drowned one, whose weeping ghost, wet hair hanging and skin bloated, waits silently by the water to pull down a substitute.

No name woman Maxine Hong Kingston

She kept the man's name to herself throughout her labor and dying; she did not accuse him that he be punished with her. To save her inseminator's name she gave silent birth.

No name woman Maxine Hong Kingston

She was lucky that he was her age and she would be the first wife, an advantage secure now. The night she first saw him, he had sex with her. Then he left for America. She had almost forgotten what he looked like.

No name woman Maxine Hong Kingston

When she felt the birth coming, she thought that she had been hurt. Her body seized together. "They've hurt me too much," she thought. "This is gall, and it will kill me." With forehead and knees against the earth, her body convulsed and then relaxed. She turned on her back, lay on the ground. The black well of sky and stars went out and out forever; her body and her complexity seemed to dissapear.

No name woman Maxine Hong Kingston

So in America when the sun goes down and I sit on the old broken-down river pier watching the long, long skies over New Jersey and sense all that the raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the West coast, and all the road going, all the people dreaming in the immensity of to, and in Iowa i know by now the children must be crying in the land where they let the children cy, and tonight the stars'll be out, and dont you know that God is pooh bear?

On the Road Jack Kerouac

i first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up. I had just gotten over a serious illness that I wont bother to talk about, except that it had something to do with the miserable weary split-up and my feeling that everything was dead. With the coming of Dean moriarty began the part of my life you could call my life on the roAD

On the Road Jack Kerouac

the evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie, which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens all rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody knows whats going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of Dean Morirarty, I even think if Old Dean Morirarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty.

On the Road Jack Kerouac

Somewhere between the line i knew there'd be girls, vision, everything; somewhere along the line the pearl would be handed to me

On the Road Jack Kerouac

"Did I tell you? My mother, she never did stop dancing." "Yes. You told me. And mine, she never got well." Roberta lifted her hands from the tabletop and covered her face with her palms. When she took them away she really was crying. "Oh, shit, Twyla. Shit, shit, shit. What the hell happened to Maggie?"

Recitatif Toni Morrison

"They're just mothers." "And what am I? Swiss cheese?" "l used to curl your hair." "l hated your hands in my hair."

Recitatif Toni Morrison

I brought a painted sign in queenly red with huge black letters that said, IS YOUR MOTHER WELL?. Roberta took her lunch break and didn't come back for the rest of the day or any day after. Two days later I stopped going too and couldn't have been missed because nobody understood my signs anyway.

Recitatif Toni Morrison

I didn't kick her; I didn't join in with the gar girls and kick that lady, but I sure did want to. We watched and never tried to help her and never called for help. Maggie was my dancing mother. Deaf, I thought, and dumb. Nobody inside. Nobody who would hear you if you cried in the night. Nobody who could tell you anything important that you could use. Rocking, dancing, swaying as she walked. And when the gar girls pushed her down and started rough- housing, I knew she wouldn't scream, couldn't—just like me—and I was glad about that.

Recitatif Toni Morrison

I liked the way she understood things so fast. So for the moment it didn't matter that we looked like salt and pepper standing there and that's what the other kids called us sometimes. We were eight years old and got F's all the time. Me because I couldn't remember what I read or what the teacher said. And Roberta because she couldn't read at all and didn't even listen to the teacher. She wasn't good at anything except jacks, at which she was a killer: pow scoop pow scoop pow scoop.

Recitatif Toni Morrison

I used to dream a lot and almost always the orchard was there. Two acres, four maybe, of these little apple trees. Hundreds of them. Empty and crooked like beggar women when I first came to St. Bonny's but fat with flowers when I left. I don't know why I dreamt about that orchard so much. Nothing really happened there. Nothing all that important, I mean. Just the big girls dancing and playing the radio. Roberta and me watching. Maggie fell down there once.

Recitatif Toni Morrison

My mother danced all night and Roberta's was sick. That's why we were taken to St. Bonny's.

Recitatif Toni Morrison

As a single ballon must stand for a lifetime of thinking about balloons, so each citizen expressed, in the attitude he chose, a complex of attitudes.

The Balloon Donald Barthelme

"And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin, When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, Then how should I begin To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?"

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock T.S. Eliot

"Do I dare Disturb the universe?"

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock T.S. Eliot

"Let is go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherised upon a table"

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock T.S. Eliot

"Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaving out of the windows?..."

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock T.S. Eliot

"With a bald spot in the middle of my hair- (They will say: 'how his hair is growing thin!') My morning coat, my collar mounting firmilt to the chin, My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin- (They will say:'But how his arms and legs are thin!')

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock T.S. Eliot

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 'Till human voices wakes us, and we drown."

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock T.S. Eliot

So much depends Upon A red wheel barrow Glazed with rain Water Beside the white Chickens

The Red Wheelbarrow By William Carlos Williams

The ballon, beginning at a point on fourteenth street, the exact location of which I cannot reveal, expanded northward all one night, while people were sleeping, until it reached the park.

The ballon Donald Barthelme

I met you under the balloon, on the occasion of your return from Norway; you asked if it was mine;I said it was. The balloon, I said, is a spontaneous autobiographical disclosure, having to do with the unease I felt at your absence, and with sexual deprivation, but now that your visit to Bergen has been terminated, it is no longer necessary or appropriate. Removal of the balloon was easy; trailer trucks carried away the depleted fabric, which is now stored in West Virginia, awaiting some other time of unhappiness, sometime, perhaps, when we are angry with one another.

The balloon Donald Barthelme

That is, the ballon was, in this man's view, an imposture, something inferior to the sky that hd formerly been there, something interposed between the people and their "sky".

The balloon Donald Barthelme

The balloon, for the twenty-two days of its existence, offered the possibility, in its randomness, of mislocation of the self, in contradistinction to the grid of precise, rectangular pathways under our feet

The balloon Donald Barthelme


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