Meia Geddes Quotes

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.

I wonder if one can make one's life into a series of projects.

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.

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?

A slippage, what has not come to pass or what has passed, a bit of nothingness or a bit of everything if one considers all a slip of paper might hold.

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.

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).

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

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.

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.

Let us take our tongues and stick them out and waggle them in the wind. Let us walk, loving, let us walk and love, walking along, loving.

Is it not so presumptuous to write a word? To write a word is to give the word a space all of its own. You build a home for it and hope it can find itself at home among all the other words. Nestled in a new place.

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.

I would like to do more in appreciating the mindset of the child. Maybe it has something to do with taking ourselves very seriously and with great disregard, as well as having a healthy does of awe and doubt for all else.

Art allows us to die over and over without actually dying. Only we must catch our breath.

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.

To believe in moments makes life endless, no?

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

We are each of us a bird in a body. In the space between bodies lies a solitude formed by the vibration of differing thoughts.