It was a day in early May, moving from dawn to dark with a rush of strong fresh winds, made almost palpable as wings by the apple and cherry blossoms which they loosened and bore away from the trees.
- from “The Love of Parson Lord” by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
“When it rained, Marcial hid himself under the clavichord. Every clap of thunder made the sound box vibrate, and set all the notes to singing. Shafts of lightning fell from the sky, creating a vault of cascading arpeggios - the organ, the wind in the pines, and the crickets’ mandolin.”
- from “Journey Back to the Source” by Alejo Carpentier (translated by Harriet De Onís)
The eyes open to a cry of pulleys,
And spirited from sleep, the astounded soul
Hangs for a moment, bodiless and simple
As false dawn.
Outside the open window
The morning air is all awash with angels.
- from “Love Calls Us to the Things of This World” by Richard Wilbur
The reality was more entrancing than the simple wish of long ago. Radium had something better than “a beautiful color”: it was spontaneously luminous. And in the somber shed where, in the absence of cupboards, the precious particles in their tiny glass receivers were placed on tables or on shelves nailed to the walls, their phosphorescent bluish outlines gleamed, suspended in the night.
“Look… Look!” the young woman murmured.
She went forward cautiously, looked for and found a straw-bottomed chair. She sat down in the darkness and silence. Their two faces turned toward the pale glimmering, the mysterious sources of radiation…
- from Madame Curie: A Biography by Eve Curie
“Yet I wanted to live in clean air and say Yes, or No, mean what I said and have it understood and no nonsense. I hate half-things, half-heartedness, stupid false situations, invented feelings, pumped-up loves and hand-decorated hates.” - Katherine Anne Porter, Ship of Fools