“I see a poem as a multi-coloured strip behind peeling plaster, in separate, shining fragments.”
“Memory is like plaster: peel it back and you just might find a completely different picture.”
“But memory is like plaster: peel it back and you just might find a completely different picture.”
“Her warm memories. I'd like to paint them over the bare plaster walls of my soul, but everything I paint seems to peel.”
“The One remains, the many change and pass; Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly; Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity, Until Death tramples it to fragments---Die, If thou wouldst be with that which thou dost seek!”
“Separating them were two layers of brick, a few inches of plaster, and nine years of silence.”