Your prayer can be poetry, and poetry can be your prayer.
—Terri Guillemets
Your prayer can be poetry, and poetry can be your prayer.
—Terri Guillemets
Yep, I’m an INFJ — an antisocial butterfly and the most hugging, loving people-hater you’ll ever meet.
—Terri Guillemets
Weather is a great metaphor for life — sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and there’s nothing much we can do about it but carry an umbrella or choose to dance in the rain.
—Terri Guillemets
“Bartleby, in a singularly mild, firm voice, replied, ‘I would prefer not to.’”
—Herman Melville (1819–1891), “Bartleby, the Scrivener,” 1853
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
—Sylvia Plath (1932–1963), The Bell Jar, 1963
I’ve had such bad insomnia the sleep cops have issued a warrant for my rest.
—Terri Guillemets
I’m an insomniacaholic
if there is such a thing
well, I know there is —
I am one, and their king!
—Terri Guillemets
My favorite weather is bird-chirping weather.
—Terri Guillemets
Fossils are what ‘now’ looked like forever ago.
—Terri Guillemets