9 June (1935): Katherine Anne Porter to Caroline Gordon
I don’t want to be a scourge to anybody, I merely would like to stop being a scourge to myself…
I don’t want to be a scourge to anybody, I merely would like to stop being a scourge to myself…
Quacks! Quackery! Poor sick, infirm, lunatic Humanity…
Possibly the finest thing about your performance is that those who hear and see you feel that zest for living, the zest you radiate, is more important than any formula about how to live life…
We can’t help what we write though; an unknown Something works within us and makes us write so & so…
I’ll write a book that will make any of Steinbeck appear like small peanuts. You keep this letter. You wait. You reread this letter in two years. You’ll see…
As a matter of fact the American peasant as “real” material scarcely exists…
As part of PEN’s World Voices Festival, poet Eileen Myles participated in the Obsession series at the Standard, East Village. Myles’ topic was “Spoilage”…
We are now reveling in big strawberries, green peas, early potatoes, and other nice things, on which we shall grow fat as pigs.
Almost all official persons concerned seem subject to nineteenth century fainting spells, the official kind that our Eastern grandmothers complained of…
The first awakening of his spiritual activity was revolutionary—scientific, as it’s called. What a terrible plague this is!…