Quotes About Rebirth

Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and I eat men like air.

And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty. And like the cat I have nine times to die. -- from Lady Lazarus, written 23-29 October 1962

Ash, ash —- You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—— A cake of soap, A wedding ring, A gold filling. Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air. --from Lady Lazarus, written 23-29 October 1962

How many different deaths I can die?

Not easy to state the change you made. If I'm alive now, I was dead, Though, like a stone, unbothered by it.

They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls. --From the poem Lady Lazarus, written 23-29 October 1962

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

I never feel so much myself as when I'm in a hot bath. I lay in that tub on the seventeenth floor of this hotel for-women-only, high up over the jazz and push of New York, for near onto an hour, and I felt myself growing pure again. I don't believe in baptism or the waters of Jordan or anything like that, but I guess I feel about a hot bath the way those religious people feel about holy water.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. [I think I made you up inside my head.]

A time of darkness, despair, disillusion-so black only the inferno of the human mind can be-symbolic death, and numb shock-then the painful agony of slow rebirth and psychic regeneration

And I, stepping from this skin Of old bandages, boredoms, old faces Step to you from the black car of Lethe, Pure as a baby.

Slowly I swam up from the bottom of a black sleep.

You are twenty. You are not dead, although you were dead. The girl who died. And was resurrected. Children. Witches. Magic. Symbols. Remember the illogic of the fantasy.

There ought, I thought, to be a ritual for being born twice—patched, retreaded and approved for the road, I was trying to think of an appropriate one when Doctor Nolan appeared from nowhere and touched me on the shoulder. "All right, Esther.

Soon, soon the flesh The grave cave ate will be At home on me And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty. And like the cat I have nine times to die. This is Number Three. What a trash To annihilate each decade. --from Lady Lazarus, written 23-29 October 1962

Dar eu nu m? m?ritam. Trebuia s? existe, îmi spuneam eu, un ritual pentru când te n??teai a doua oar?, vulcanizat, reÈ™apat È™i gata de drum.

Piece by piece, as at the strokes of a dull godmother's wand, the old world sprang back into position.

People and trees receded on either hand like the dark sides of a tunnel as I hurtled on to the still, bright point at the end of it, the pebble at the bottom of the well, the white sweet baby cradled in its mother's belly.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again.

Pensavo: dovrebbe esserci un rituale per nascere una seconda volta: rappezzata, rinchiusa e poi riconosciuta idonea a riprendere la via.

There ought, I thought, to be a ritual for being born twice - patched, retreaded and approved for the road

Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.

Among petals pale as death And leaves steadfast in shape They sleep on, mouth to mouth. A white mist is going up. The small green nostrils breathe, And they turn in their sleep. Ousted from that warm bed We are a dream they dream. Their eyelids keep the shade. No harm can come to them. We cast our skins and slide Into another time.

HARRY: But I thought I might escape from one life to another, And it may be all one life, with no escape.