The sheer rapture that I would take to mould a clear and frigid statue; Hilda Doolittle


“Does one love a statue?” she demanded. “Shall I caress a picture? Shall I rain tears or kisses over the mere semblance of a life that does not live, shall I fondle hands that never return my clasp? Love! Love is in my heart -yes! like a shut-up fire in a tomb,but you hold the key, and the flame dies for want of air.”

― Marie Corelli, The Soul of Lilith


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