Girl lithe and tawny, the sun that forms
the fruits, that plumps the grains, that curls seaweeds
filled your body with joy, and your luminous eyes
and your mouth that has the smile of the water.

A black yearning sun is braided into the strands
of your black mane, when you stretch your arms.
You play with the sun as with a little brook
and it leaves two dark pools in your eyes.

Girl lithe and tawny, nothing draws me towards you.
Everything bears me farther away, as though you were noon.
You are the frenzied youth of the bee,
the drunkenness of the wave, the power of the wheat-ear.

My somber heart searches for you, nevertheless,
and I love your joyful body, your slender flowing voice.
Dark butterfly, sweet and definitive
like the wheat-field and the sun, the poppy and the water.

– Pablo Neruda, “Girl Lithe and Tawny”, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair
"To live is to build a ship and a harbor
At the same time. And to complete the harbor
Long after the ship has drowned."
– Yehuda Amichai, “Letters”
"Isolation offered its own form of companionship: the reliable silence of her rooms, the steadfast tranquility of the evenings. The promise that she would find things where she put them, that there would be no interruption, no surprise."
– Jhumpa Lahiri, The Lowland
"the exquisite prayer
to be new each day
brings to the artist
only a certain kneeness"
– Frank O’Hara
"But one kiss levitates above all the others. / The intersection of function and desire"
– McDaniel, The Archipelago of Kisses
"Years of love have been forgot
In the hatred of a minute"
– Edgar Allan Poe
"My heroes don’t have anything special. They have something to tell other people but they don’t know how, so they talk to themselves."
– Haruki Murakami
"Nobody likes being alone that much. I don’t go out of my way to make friends, that’s all. It just leads to disappointment."
– Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

Love means to learn to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
For you are only one thing among many.
And whoever sees that way heals his heart,
Without knowing it, from various ills—
A bird and a tree say to him: Friend.

Then he wants to use himself and things
So that they stand in the glow of ripeness.
It doesn’t matter whether he knows what he serves:
Who serves best doesn’t always understand.

– Czeslaw Milosz, “Love”
"Whatever happens with us, your body
will haunt mine — tender, delicate
your lovemaking…
the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth —
your touch on me, firm, protective, searching
me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers
reaching where I had been waiting years for you
in my rose-wet cave — whatever happens, this is."
– Adrienne Rich, “The Floating Poem, Unnumbered” from Twenty-one Love Poems
"It is beautiful to hear the heart beat
but often the shadow seems more real than the body"


– Tomas Tranströmer (trans. Robert Bly)


This feeling of being lonely and very temporary visitors in the universe is in flat contradiction to everything known about man (and all other living organisms) in the sciences. We do not “come into” this world; we come out of it, as leaves from a tree. As the ocean “waves,” the universe “peoples.”

Every individual is an expression of the whole realm of nature, a unique action of the total universe.

– Alan Watts, “The Book on the Taboo of Knowing Who You Are”
"Our bed is a notebook. / Come love, let us write."
– Carmelo Militano
"The sun yields, while the planets
circumscribe it in circles of limit.
This is how gravitation works:
your freedom for my fixity."
– via @teamong
"How my body blooms from every vein / more fragrantly, since you appeared to me."
– Rainer Maria Rilke, Sacrifice