A Quote by e. e. cummings
i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
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nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands -excerpt of #35 from "100 Selected Poems
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
Your hand opens and closes, opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralysed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birds' wings.
Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralyzed.
Sometimes love is a wound that opens and closes, opens and closes, all our lives.
When you are in the mundane from what is deeper than your self, you realize the mundane to be more than your self, and your self opens. It opens in its structuring and in its form, enabling you as the form of your self to move in the deeper levels of the mundane
Closing your eyes isn't going to change anything. Nothing's going to disappear just because you can't see what's going on. In fact, things will even be worse the next time you open your eyes. That's the kind of world we live in. Keep your eyes wide open. Only a coward closes his eyes. Closing your eyes and plugging up your ears won't make time stand still.
There is a way between voice and presence, where information flows. In disciplined silence it opens; with wandering talk it closes.
A game: say something. Close your eyes and say something. Anything, a number, a name. Like this (she closes her eyes): Two, two what? Two women. What do they look like? Wearing black. Where are they? In a park. . . . And then, what are they doing? Try it, it's so easy, why don't you want to play? You know, that's how I talk to myself when I'm alone, I tell myself all kinds of stories. And not only silly stories: actually, I live this way altogether.
As cliche as it sounds, when one door closes, another one opens. Whenever I've gotten bad news about something, within a week or two there's another opportunity that brings new hope or keeps me motivated.
People who know your work and know your personality, they know your strengths and weaknesses. A director like Guillermo del Toro, he knows more about me than I do. I trust him when he tells me what part I'm going to be playing in something, because he's envisioned that that can only be done by me. He knows it.
When people say to me: "Oh don't worry, if one door closes another one opens..." If one door closes for me, go through the window - I'm not interested in waiting around for people to give me opportunities. I try and make things happen and if I am given opportunities I take them and work harder.
You don't know me at all. You don't know the first thing about me. You don't know where I'm writing this from. You don't know what I look like. You have no power over me. What do you think I look like? Skinny? Freckles? Wire-rimmed glasses over brown eyes? No, I don't think so. Better look again. Deeper. It's like a kaleidoscope, isn't it? One minute I'm short, the next minute tall, one minute I'm geeky, one minute studly, my shape constantly changes, and the only thing that stays constant is my brown eyes. Watching you.
Keep God as your main focus. Make sure your desire to do what you're aspiring to do is deeper than just fame and being a celebrity. Be willing to work hard, and don't believe that when a door closes it's anything personal.
You know what they say, when one door closes, another Belvedere opens.
I cannot be known Better than you know me Your eyes in which we sleep We together Have made for my man’s gleam A better fate than for the common nights Your eyes in which I travel Have given to signs along the roads A meaning alien to the earth In your eyes who reveal to us Our endless solitude Are no longer what they thought themselves to be You cannot be known Better than I know you.
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