Quote for Today: Haruki Murakami

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The whiff of ocean on the southern breeze and the smell of burning asphalt brought back memories of summers past. It had seemed as though those sweet dreams of summer would last forever: the warmth of a girl’s skin, an old rock ‘n’ roll song, freshly washed button-down shirt, the odor of cigarette smoke in a pool changing room, a fleeting premonition. Then one summer (when had it been?) the dreams had vanished, never to return.
Haruki Murakami, Hear the Wind Sing

Image by lisa runnels from Pixabay

Quote for Today: Edward Thomas

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Digging
To-day I think
Only with scents,- scents dead leaves yield,
And bracken, and wild carrot’s seed,
And the square mustard field;

 

Odours that rise
When the spade wounds the root of tree,
Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed,
Rhubarb or celery;

 

The smoke’s smell, too,
Flowing from where a bonfire burns
The dead, the waste, the dangerous,
And all to sweetness turns.

 

It is enough
To smell, to crumble the dark earth,
While the robin sings over again
Sad songs of Autumn mirth.
Edward ThomasCollected Poems
Image: Handful of Grape Pomace © Adrian J. Hunter with CCLicense

Quote for Today: Catherynne M. Valente

© Indy Kethdy with CCLicense

© Indy Kethdy with CCLicense

Squeeze your eyes closed, as tight as you can, and think of all your favorite autumns, crisp and perfect, all bound up together like a stack of cards. That is what it is like, the awful, wonderful brightness of Fairy colors. Try to smell the hard, pale wood sending up sharp, green smoke into the afternoon. To feel the mellow, golden sun on your skin, more gentle and cozier and more golden than even the light of your favorite reading nook at the close of the day.

Catherynne M. ValenteThe Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making
Synkroniciti has quoted Catherynne M. Valente before here.

Quote for Today: Rainer Maria Rilke

At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is in no way inferior to the smell of the sea, bitter where it borders on taste, and more honeysweet where you feel it touching the first sounds. Containing depth within itself, darkness, something of the grave almost.

Rainer Maria Rilke

© B. Monginoux / Landscape-Photo.net with CCLicense

© B. Monginoux / Landscape-Photo.net with CCLicense

Synkroniciti has quoted Rilke before here.