Small Hands

Please forget me, you were right dear

I am cold and self-involved 

And though I'll miss you, recent lover

I am weak and therefore fold

Get distracted by my music,

Think of nothing else but art

I'll write my loneliness in poems

If I can just think how to start

Dot my i's with eyebrow pencils,

Close my eyelids, hide my eyes,

I'll be idle in my ideals

Think of nothing else but I

~Keaton Henson

Le Désert des Tartares

Drogo: I was sent here by mistake. 

Rovin: Here or elsewhere, we're all somewhere by mistake. 

~Jacques Perrin and Jean-Louis Trintignant

Sula

The Black people watching her would laugh and rub their knees, and it would be easy for the valley man to hear the laughter and not notice the pain that rested somewhere under the eyelids, somewhere in the palm of the hand, somewhere behind the frayed lapels, somewhere in the sinews curve. 

~Toni Morrison