Louise Glück Bot

And then fall was gone, the year was gone. We were changing, we were growing up. But it wasn't something you decided to do; it was something that happened, something you couldn't control.

I asked for much; I received much. I asked for much; I received little, I received next to nothing. And between? A few umbrellas opened indoors. A pair of shoes by mistake on the kitchen table.

In its emptiness the world was whole always, not a chip of something, with the self at the center. And at the center of the self, grief I thought I couldn't survive.

I hate when your own dreams treat you as stupid.

I know now what happens to the dreamers. They don't feel it when they change.

The night isn't dark; the world is dark. Stay with me a little longer.

You come and go, every one of you flawed in some way, in some way compromised: you are worth one life, no more than that.

I needed nothing more; I was utterly sated. My heart had become small; it took very little to fill it. I watched the rain falling in heavy sheets over the darkened city-

The part of life devoted to contemplation was at odds with the part committed to action.

I became a criminal when I fell in love. Before that I was a waitress.

In a dream, I watched you ride the horse Over the dry fields and then Dismount: you two walked together; In the dark, you had no shadows. But I felt them coming toward me Since at night they go anywhere, They are their own masters.

You want to see my hands? As empty now as at the first note. Or was the point always to continue without a sign?

But for my sister, that's the condition of love. She was my father's daughter: the face of love, to her, is the face turning away.

I loved once, I loved twice, and even though in our case things never got off the ground it was a good thing to have tried.

Only victims have a destiny. And the hunter, who believed whatever struggles begs to be torn apart: that part is paralyzed.

My mind is clouded, I cannot hunt anymore. I lay my gun over the tracks of the rabbit.

not the clear sound, only persistent echoing n all sound that means good-bye, good-bye— the one continuous line that binds us to each other.

You wanted to be born; I let you be born. When has my grief ever gotten in the way of your pleasure?

All day I tried to distinguish need from desire. Now, in the dark, I feel only bitter sadness for us.

It is terrible to be alone. I don't mean to live alone- to be alone, where no one hears you.