42 Quotes by Carl Phillips

Here comes the word for mystery.Here is the word for true.

afternoons I remember still: how the lightseemed a bell; how it seemed I'd been livinginside it, waiting— I'd heard all aboutthat one clear note it gives.

The heart—at last nothingbut a muscle moving,not at all the talisman you'd imagined:how if only you could touch it—howeverything, everything mightyet be differentif you did . . .

Is thisperfection,or the cost of it?

Fear. Things invisible,and the visible effects by whichwe know them.

Human gesture. Betrayed,betrayed.

from within theirthicket of nowhere left to hide

The ancient Greeks; the Romans after. How theymade of love a wild god

As ifsometimes the world really did amount toa quiet arrangement.