A chronicle of nose growth
'...changing the form of one's mission's almost as difficult as changing the shape of one's nose:
they are, each, in the middle of one's face and one's character - one has to begin too far back.'
― Henry James. The Portrait of a Lady.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Sometimes I cannot help but wonder whether gay (or bisexual) poets exist precisely to echo - no, to iterate - the inexpressible sentiments of tenderhearted women. This particular one, by Walt Whitman, seems to capture the frail uncertainty of our human convictions and our understanding of the world, and contrast that to the unthinking certainty of flesh and of the senses.
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