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"In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined
On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind."
Lotus Eaters by Alfred Tennyson
“When Gregor Samsa woke one morning from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into some sort of monstrous insect.” Metamorphosis by Frantz Kafka
"I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediatelyJust as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. "
The Mirror by Sylvia Plath
"He's just a sack of snoring dog. You can lug him like a log. "
Roger The Dog by Ted Huges
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load Or does it explode?
Langston Hughes
“Hope” is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all And sweetest in the Gale is heard
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm
I’ve heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest Sea
Yet never in Extremity,
It asked a crumb of me. "Hope by Emile Dickinson
" My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die!"
The Rainbow by William Wordsworth
Brown and furry
Caterpillar in a hurry,
Take your walk
To the shady leaf, or stalk,
Or what not,
Which may be the chosen spot.
No toad spy you,
Hovering bird of prey pass by you;
Spin and die,
To live again a butterfly." by Christina Rossetti
“April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain.”
The Wasteland by T.S. Eliot
“There is a Thorn—it looks so old,
In truth, you’d find it hard to say
How it could ever have been young,
It looks so old and grey.
The Thorn by William Wordsworth
' The breaking dead leaves ’neath my feet
A plaintive melody repeat,
Recalling shattered hopes that lie
As relics of a bygone sky. "
Dead Leaves by Georgia Douglas Johnson
"But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing."
Caged Bird by Maya Angelou
"I objurgate the centipede,
A bug we do not really need.
At sleepy-time he beats a path
Straight to the bedroom or the bath.
You always wallop where he's not,
Or, if he is, he makes a spot. "
The Centipede by Ogden Nash
"It hangs where daisies mauve and white
Stand dreaming in the morning light,
A spider’s web, a fairy thing
Whose threads to daisy-petals cling"
The Spider’s Web by Enid Blyton
"O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing"
Ode to the West Wind by P B Shelley
The Art of Broken Nest
"The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling,
and it scatters gems in profusion. " Light by Tagore
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