My very first Austen was enjoyable and a bit challenging as I fumbled with the ornate language, more often than not, forcing me to slow down.  Grateful to have this omission in my literary education deleted  thanks to my participation in the virtual book club of A Public Space.


My idea of good company…is the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I call good company.

‘You are mistaken,’ said he gently, ‘that is not good company, that is the best.’

Perhaps I shall. Yes, yes, if you please, no reference to examples in books. Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove anything.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father’s house this evening or never.



Today I did almost nothing.
Read a little, tried to write a sentence
to make another sentence seem necesary.

I wasn’t unhappy. Everything
I could will myself to do I’d done,
so I said I’d done enough.

Now I’m looking out my window:
white pine, ash, a single birch,
the leanings and crossings

of branches. And then the sky:
pale, undecided. Years ago
you wrote to me about a matter

that worried you, and you said
at the end, “That’s probably the best,
and most true, way to think about it.”

I kept your sentence in my notebook.
I liked its shape. I admired the way,
young as you were, you could feel

one kind of thinking
adjusting into another, one truth
becoming a better truth.

Now you’re far off, and alone, and I
have no advice you haven’t already
given yourself. What can I tell you?

That I’m here? That today, when I saw
how tenderly the light was moving
amoung those trees, I thought of you?

Lawrence Raab | Letter

Toyin Ojih Odutola | The Treatment, 2015



I ♥ Rose Wylie

Was that Racism?

Return the National Parks to the Tribes

John L’Heureux | On Death + Dignity



Last night we ended up on the couch
trying to remember
all of the friends who had died so far,


♥ F ♥

I love you so much! ♥


Alfred Stieglitz | Georgia O’Keeffe, 1933



will not allow it. A lesson
in suffering—O!
but Lord—I have suffered.

I confess, I am
selfish, self-
absorbed—I consume

so I might rid myself
of what

I want through its destruction.

Before me as barrier, the ocean
swallowing, no
regard for consequence—in my grief
let me be simple like that.

My mouth, without
the other’s: useless.
I long to fill it like a grave.

O Lord,
don’t speak
to me

of restraint—I have abstained

so devoutly
in your name I am

defined by that absence, so long
I am wasting away.

Leila Chatti | Ramadan Lament

JO Barrios | Flores – Maya, 2020