“Across the sea of space, the stars are other suns.”
“I don’t mind making jokes, but I don’t want to look like one.”
“What is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.”
“To live a creative life, we must loose our fear of being wrong.”
“You’re on Earth. There’s no cure for that.”
A Poem by Florence Ripley Mastin
The gray path glided before me
Through cool, green shadows;
Little leaves hung in the soft air
Like drowsy moths;
A group of dark trees, gravely conferring,
Made me conscious of the gaucherie of sound;
Farther on, a slim lilac
Drew me down to her on the warm grass.
“How sweet is peace!”
My serene heart said.
Then, suddenly, in a curve of the road,
A bright battalion, swaying,
They marched with fluttering flags,
And gay fifes playing!
A swift flame leapt in my heart;
I burned with passion;
I was tainted with cruelty;
I wanted to march in the wind,
To tear the silence with gay music,
And to slash the sober green
Until it sobbed and bled.
The tulips have found me out.