Best 22 quotes of Meia Geddes on MyQuotes

Meia Geddes

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    Meia Geddes

    A word is a word is another word more beautiful because of the former and the next and the circle and sun they create.

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    Meia Geddes

    Being in the country is like being in a dream—one doesn't quite know who one is. There is an anonymity to it all—that strange human creature that is me, one among all.

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    Meia Geddes

    Cutting down a wall, the wall sawyer could feel the tension in a home ease and something windy rush in circles round her feet. It was addictive, each a sweet victory of art. The tumbling motion of a falling wall was like a volcanic eruption fading into a mountain of roses. The wall sawyer felt a loving animosity toward walls. “You must pay attention to your obsessions, where life and love intersect,” she told the little queen.

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    Meia Geddes

    Every once in a while, and it happens only several times a year if I am lucky, I will feel astonishment that I exist, that I am sitting, standing, perceiving, and that others perceive me...It is probably a good thing I am not always so aware of my existence because otherwise I would walk about in a haze of wonder embracing things.

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    Meia Geddes

    If I could simply place the various parts of myself into the night sky to occasionally glance up and behold myself—maybe in the end I am only hoping to vicariously soak up some starlight.

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    Meia Geddes

    I let quiet shape what I say, then realize there is nothing that can be fully said—the reason for gestures and eyes and art. Always something waiting, wanting, expectant, yet also curiously not.

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    Meia Geddes

    In this summer heat, I must remember that the realest things are the closest and farthest away, like the warmth found in winter: the heat hidden in the folds of one's coat, a lost floating breath, a kiss across the distance of zero degrees.

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    Meia Geddes

    I recommend the French beret, for it gives the impression of just the right soft toughness, a veritable wave of sophisticated brain matter. It is the kind of hat that inspires a person to grow into it, to become the person they never knew they could be. The space between the top of the head and the beginnings of hat is among the most intimate of areas: earlobe behinds, elbow insides, and anuses. One must pay heed to such spaces for they hold a potential not fully known (but generally agreed to be vast).

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    Meia Geddes

    I should think a poet president would be able to create a delectable confluence of various spaces. A poet is most political.

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    Meia Geddes

    I think of the snow, falling, drifting upward. Of extending the ephemeral. Spaces follow spaces, burgeoning, and the air smells so sweet.

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    Meia Geddes

    It is good to be the pitter-patter of snow, no? To be an unexpected moment in time.

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    Meia Geddes

    I try to live in the luminosity of things.

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    Meia Geddes

    I will treat language with resigned delight, embrace it like unrequited love, offer words to you with a kind of secret shame, for I know that sometimes there is such a thing as too much language, and that language can hold a kind of sincerity that is tiresome and overwrought.

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    Meia Geddes

    I wonder how much space I take up, if a thought can take up secondary space.

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    Meia Geddes

    I wonder if there has been a book written on toes—the bottom parts of a body are just as important as the top parts. Each chapter would focus on one of the ten toes and each would inspire singular, existential commentary: the potential of our toes as leaders, the solidity of our little instruments, the dangers of relating size and value. It would be called The Toe Manifesto and people would be interested in reading it because, after all, it is the toe that goes forward first and foremost, and the toe that helps to tell us if our bodies are hot or cold—in other words, the toe experiences far more than we give it credit for.

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    Meia Geddes

    Maybe all you need to do is find the heartbeat in everything. And if writing is living, the discovery of the beat of a heart, then when you read me, you are living by my side.

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    Meia Geddes

    Suffice to say, the dream writer had a way of phrasing things. She could depict the curve of a cucumber, the shape of a sunbeam, the endearing, velvety tilt of a peach, in just such a way that she earned her living selling dreams. One simply made a selection, read it in solitude, and let it percolate till sleep. People swore they fell directly into her renderings, and one even asked if the dream writer could write a dream of dreaming forever. The dream writer could not do this, but she hired dream apprentices to expand the reach of her dreams and she wrote dreams for herself in which she would sit at a desk, pen in hand, and write even more dreams. This nearly doubled her output.

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    Meia Geddes

    The little queen lived in a world where the sky swirled like the sea and nothing was itself for very long. Everything looked to be in brushstrokes.

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    Meia Geddes

    The little queen’s mother and father had said that she would live on, for a long time, and that her tears would magnify the life around her forever more, but they had not explained how she should go about going on.

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    Meia Geddes

    The most perfect solitude must entail the absence of all beings, but it must also tremble with the light of life. For example, a perfect solitude may find itself haunted by lives born of the imagination, characters lying on shelves in rows of books, or accompanied by figures waiting in dreams. The perfect solitude pushes one to sense the pulse of solitude itself; for example, a perfect solitude may be marked with the beat of one’s heart.

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    Meia Geddes

    The window counter considered numbers often. How many tons of air did the universe contain, for instance. She wanted to know the average number of thoughts projected on an object in its life, to measure the silences in a dream, to calculate the ideal amount of light a window should emit. But the most pressing question of all was the number of windows the world contained. How many worlds could a person view from within or without?

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    Meia Geddes

    Whenever she felt at home, there always seemed to be love floating about on the edges of things.