“These woods are where silence has come to lick its wounds.”

​Hunt

In the cragged pool

The river-smithy

Goes on labouring all night.

River-goblins

Toil the bellows, in the underglow.

Sledge-hammers of big water, rock anvils

Pound in the den of glooms.

With fling of glare metals and shadow-struggle.

Under the corrugated roof

Bulging and flashing mares

Slam down their heels, and are held.

Electrical stallions

Surge and, with oaths, are quieted.

​Ted Hughes

Each is another and no other:

crossing and vanishing

through their empty names:

water, stone, wind.

Paz

​

"Yes, pebble says,

  I am hiding all the world’s memory."

​

  Hallett

“That wish to enter into an elusive element which had urged Cosimo into the trees,

was still working now inside him unsatisfied, making him long for a more intimate link,

a relationship which would bind him to each leaf and twig and feather and flutter.”

​Calvino

“My dear girl, is it that you are so lonely that you had to create this?”

​Danielewski

I never really understood the word ‘loneliness’.  

As far as I was concerned, I was in an orgy with the sky and the ocean, and with nature.

Björk

Forest, I fear you!

In my ruined heart your roaring wakens the same agony as in cathedrals when the organ moans

and from the depths I hear that I am damned.

Baudelaire

"Their grief 

 howls seaward through charred, ravaged holes"

​Walcott