"The walls recede, the roof vanishes, and you float quite naturally
You float uprooted, dragged off, lifted high
You are transported, immortalized, saved, honored
Thanks to that subtle, continuous rhythm…"
— Reinaldo Arenas, from "The Parade Ends"
"It would be... heartless terror. Yes. Terrible, and...
Very great. To shed your skin, every old skin, one by one and then walk away, unencumbered, into the morning."
— Tony Kushner, from Angels in America
"In the valleys, where the song
of the weary farmer sounds,
and when I sit and mourn
the illusions of youth fading,
and on the hills where I recall
and grieve for my lost desires
and my life's lost hope, I think of you
and start to shake."
— Giacomo Leopardi, from "To His Lady," trans. Jonathan Galassi