Quotes from John Geddes

you have changed everything for me- you rearranged the furniture and now you've changed the view from my window!...

why is my cat a Muse? the cat has the rare grace of never saying a word too much? Mark Twain ...that's why ...

with you, I'm always on the verge - feeling dizzy like looking at waves - and you, my Love, make me tipsy...

you lifted the veil when you admitted you had no memory of that day - it was so special and your lack of recall so monstrous...

Myths aren't fairy tales or legends—they're an honest attempt to explain mysteries...

today there are bars of light on the rug, but Muse Cat prefers his tomato box where he can dream in private...

I hardly ever see your profile, but have I told you it's beautiful? - like the soft gentle lines of snow...

I pluck every day from my sweater or chair, red hairs...strands of significance, traces of you in my life ...

at some point we must achieve our identity -we can't be always in adolescence seeking who we are...

I keep breaking things - appointments and porcelain, thinking of your lips...

the feelings that pass between us are deeper than fleshly touches...

what is art to the dilettante but the initiation of the sacred few to the exclusion of the profane crowd?...

it's easy to express romantic love - harder to manage daily love - to forgive failings close to feelings - to divide self from soul...

my sacred landscape is the foothills of the stars - I go there often to sleep ...

in India ink your writing is lovely, but not as lovely as your hand - it is your hand - I know your hand - it fits so well in mine ...

I've decided ... love is an eternity of slow motion replays ...

to know an other's interior life you are his confessor or a writer - the one is admitted freely, the other intrudes by discerning of spirits

my heart is a desolate field over which geese vee, the sky turns and the days lie fallow...

I hide you inside me because I have found, beauty is the illumination of the mind...

we live in a different world, you and me - governed by different laws...

a bard's down-to-earth love: My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red and when she walks, treads on the ground...

my early writing was a silent fury - at what or whom, I had no idea - but I shut it in until it burned my bones and now, I've let it out...

yes, I wrote that for you, who can't sort out lie from lay no matter how often I explain it - crayons and perfume - you still don't get it ...

I know I misplace my glasses - the one's I don't need - you roll your eyes - but I don't misplace my love ...