Thoroughly Alive

We must hunger after the beautiful and the good...



The three-fold terror of love; a fallen flareThrough the hollow of an ear; Wings beating about the room; The terror of all terrors that I bore The Heavens in my womb.

Had I not found content among the shows Every common woman knows. Chimney corner, garden walk, Or rocky cistern where we tread the clothes And gather all the talk?

What is this flesh I purchased with my pains, This fallen stars my milk sustains, This love that makes my heart's blood stop Or strikes a sudden chill into my bones And bids my hair stand up?

-W.B Yeats

Sarah Clarkson3 Comments