tennyson-sadness

October 2, 2025

Immeasurable sadness!
And I know it as a poet,
And I greet it, and I meet it,
Immeasurable sadness!
And the voice that apes a nation—
Let it cry “An affectation,”
Or “A fancy” or “A madness,”—
But I know it as a poet,
And I meet it, and I greet it,
And I say it, and repeat it,
Immeasurable sadness!

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Thought:

“A stranger is someone / who sits

very still at the kitchen table,

looks down at his knuckles, / thinks some day we will laugh about this, / doesn’t believe it.”

Anne Carson | “The Fall of Rome: A Traveller’s Guide”

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