Quote #60

The music ends. The screen grows dark. We hurry To go our devious secret ways, forgetting Those many lives . . . We loved, we laughed, we killed, We danced in fire, we drowned in a whirl of sea-waves. The flutes are stilled, and a thousand dreams are stilled.

More from Conrad Aiken

  1. You know, without my telling you, how sometimes A word or name eludes you, and you seek it Through running ghosts of shadow,-leaping at it,…
  2. Once I loved, and she I loved was darkened. Again I loved, and love itself was darkened. Vainly we follow the circle of shadowy days. The s…
  3. Of what she said to me that night-no matter. The strange thing came next day. My brain was full of music-something she played me-; I couldn…
  4. Let us describe the evening as it is:- The stars disposed in heaven as they are: Verlaine and Shakspere rotting, where they rot, Rimbaud re…
  5. Let us retrace our steps: I have deceived you: Nothing is here I could not frankly tell you: No hint of guilt, or faithlessness, or threat.…
  6. Through soundless labyrinths of dream you pass, Through many doors to the one door of all. Soon as it's opened we shall hear a music: Or se…
  7. 'When you are dead your spirit will find my spirit, And then we shall die no more.'
  8. The poet walked alone in a cold late rain, And thought his grief was like the crying of sea-birds; For his lover was dead, he never would l…

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