Forrest Calcutt

“I made these sonnets out of wood; I gave them the sound of that opaque pure substance, and that is how they should reach your ears. Walking in forests or on beaches, along hidden lakes, in latitudes sprinkled with ashes, you and I have picked up pieces of pure bark, pieces of wood subject to the comings and goings of water and the weather. Out of such softened relics, then, with hatchet and machete and pocketknife, I built up these lumber piles of love, and with fourteen boards each I built little houses, so that your eyes, which I adore and sing to, might live in them. Now that I have declared the foundations of my love, I surrender this century to you: wooden sonnets that rise only because you gave them life.”
― Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

“Helen slowly became aware of an unnerving red light. She lifted her head and looked around. The glow bounced off the cold stone walls and intensified quickly. It filled her with thoughts of despair and hopelessness. She tried to shake them off.
You have what’s mine! Where is it? I want it!
Helen shuddered violently. She recalled the inner voice that urged
her to use the stone to keep Prince Harnak from dying. That voice was
comforting and encouraging. This voice was oppressive and angry and
beat on her relentlessly.
“No!” she muttered. “Go away. I have nothing for you or anyone
else, not even me.”
The red light flickered out. Only the numbing cold and her utter
isolation, cheerless companions, remained.”
― Candace L. Talmadge, Stoneslayer: Book One Scandal

“Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.”
― Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

“It isn’t the Devil in humanity that makes man a lonely creature, it’s his Godlikeness. It’s the fullness of the Good that can’t get out or can’t find its proper ‘other place’ that makes for loneliness.”
― Fynn, Mister God, This is Anna