The poetry of a people comes from the deep recesses of the unconscious, the irrational and the collective body of our ancestral memories. – Margaret Walker
[T]he sun declined, and we both fell into twilight silence. Night, which in autumn seems to fall from the sky at once, it comes so quickly, chilled us, and we rolled ourselves in our cloaks… – Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly, Les Diaboliques
