Quotes from Mina Loy

Life is only limited by our prejudices. Destroy them, and you cease to be at the mercy of yourself.

If you want to realize yourselves all your pet illusions must be unmasked.

The flux of life is pouring its aesthetic aspect into your eyes, your ears - and you ignore it because you are looking for your canons of beauty in some sort of frame or glass case or tradition.

Love of others is the appreciation of one's self.

Women must destroy in themselves, the desire to be loved-

There is no Space or Time Only intensity, And tame things Have no immensity

LOVE of others is the appreciation of one's self. MAY your egotism be so gigantic that you comprise mankind in your self-sympathy.

Poetry is prose bewitched, a music made of visual thoughts, the sound of an idea.

The flux of life is pouring its aesthetic aspect into your eyes, your ears - and you ignore it because you are looking for your canons of beauty in some sort of frame or glass case or tradition.

We might have coupled In the bed-ridden monopoly of a moment Or broken flesh with one another At the profane communion table Where wine is spill'd on promiscuous lips We might have given birth to a butterfly With the daily-news Printed in blood on its wings

If you want to realize yourselves all your pet illusions must be unmasked.

If this is madness," I said to myself, breathing his atmosphere exquisite almost to sanctification, "madness is something very beautiful.

There is no half-measure--NO scratching on the surface of the rubbish heap of tradition will bring about Reform, the only method is Absolute Demolition

LOVE the hideous in order to find the sublime core of it.

MAN is a slave only to his own mental lethargy.

She is yet like a diamond on a heap of broken glass.

Oh that's right Keep away from me Please give me a push Don't let me understand you Don't realise me Or we might tumble together Depersonalized Identical Into the terrific Nirvana Me you --- you --- me

I once heard somebody express surprise that instead of following it onward one should not take a cut across Time to secure a moment which, stretching out in line with oneself, would last indefinitely.

Some say that happy women are immaterial.

And "Immortality" mildews ... in the museums of the moon

May your egotism be so gigantic that you comprise mankind in your self-sympathy.

It is not given to each of us To be desired.

Love Songs (section III) - 1882-1966 We might have coupled In the bed-ridden monopoly of a moment Or broken flesh with one another At the profane communion table Where wine is spilled on promiscuous lips We might have given birth to a butterfly With the daily news Printed in blood on its wings.

My friend, we are not dressed for going into town," I insisted, heading him off in another direction. "Why?" asked Insel in bewildered politeness. "You look as lovely as you always do.