Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Stars will blossom in the darkness, violets bloom beneath the snow.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
The opposite of loneliness, it's not togetherness. It is intimacy.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
The birds brought seed & flowers & bits of brightly colored string & placed them in her hair while she slept so that she would remember the wild joy of spring when she finally awoke.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
I know why the caged bird sings.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Likes to smile a lot until you want her to & then she says 'Enough of that' & she thinks of other things to do.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
He has paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us in the deepest, most tragic, most inexorable sense.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Not a red rose or a satin heart. I give you an onion. It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. It promises light like the careful undressing of love ...
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Light though thou be, thou leapest out of darkness; but I am darkness leaping out of light, leaping out of thee.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Bright eyes.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
I cannot say where you are. Unreachable by prayer, even if poems are prayers. Unseeable in the air, even if souls are stars.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Light gatherer.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Le mystère de l'amour est plus grand que le mystère de la mort.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
She followed the sun & she followed the stars & in dreams they listened closely for the beginning of all things, for that was where they knew they'd find each other.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Marriage – a book of which the first chapter is written in poetry and the remaining chapters written in prose.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Love—thou are Veiled.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Never let go.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
O no, she said, you can't say just anything to the wind. Only the deepest secrets will do.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Life is made up of moments, small pieces of glittering mica in a long stretch of gray cement.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Out of the dark we came, into the dark we go.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
No man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
We shall by morning inherit the earth.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Bundled.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Listen to what she says with her eyes.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
A spring returns, and they more youthful made; but man grows old, lies down, remains where once he's laid.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Faith is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Poetry of the senses.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
To be at the very center of the world and yet to be unseen of the world.
Rebecca Tabor Armstrong:
Think of bicycles as rideable art that can just about save the world.
