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JRR Tolkien: “There was a great tree – a huge poplar with vast limbs – visible through my window even as I lay in bed. I loved it, and was anxious about it. It had been savagely mutilated some years before, but had gallantly grown new limbs – though of course not with the unblemished grace of its former natural self; and now a foolish neighbour was agitating to have it felled. Every tree has its enemy, few have an advocate…In all my works I take the part of trees as against all their enemies.”
A.E. Stallings: “I sometimes think about Sappho and wonder what her ‘readership’ or audience would have reasonably been, composing in her dialect of Greek on an island. A couple of thousand at most? And yet we are still reading her, and she somehow speaks directly to us.”
Henri Matisse: “Don’t try to be original. Be simple. Be good technically, and if there is something in you, it will come out.”
Virginia Woolf: “In writing choose the common words; avoid rhapsody and eloquence—yet, it is true, poetry is delicious; the best prose is that which is most full of poetry.”
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: “Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.”
Rafael Campo: “Perhaps, I mused finally as an impatient wind rose up around me, the best that poetry can do is to contain, for some of us, our emotions. Perhaps, in this way, it could leave a record, a kind of document that some might cast aside but that others might encounter with relief, and hope, and gratitude.”
Hélène Cixous: “Woman must write herself: must write about women and bring women to writing, from which they have been driven away as violently as from their bodies—for the same reasons, by the same law, with the same fatal goal. Woman must put herself into the text—as into the world and into history—by her own movement.”
Alice Gregory: “He has assembled ample archival evidence indicating that she had multiple romantic and sexual relationships with women in the course of many decades.” (“The Strange Afterlife of Hilma af Klint, Painting’s Posthumous Star.” The New Yorker. November 16, 2025.)
