Esperanza Spalding-Little Fly

I thought is life

And strength and breath

And  the want of thought is death

little fly


Life, a poem? Cold ideas and brain dreams

“He was weary of himself, of cold ideas and brain dreams. Life a poem? Not when you went about forever poetizing about your own life instead of living it. How innocuous it all was, and empty, empty, empty! This chasing after yourself, craftily observing your own tracks–in a circle, of course. This sham diving into the stream of life while all the time you sat angling after yourself, fishing yourself up in one curious disguise or another! If he could only be overwhelmed by something–life, love, passion–so that he could no longer shape it into poems, but had to let it shape him!”


― Jens Peter Jacobsen, Niels Lyhne