- Pain sends out long tentacles
- And sucks.
- When I have given up struggling
- He takes me into his arms.
- Death envies those asleep in her ...
- Extinguished softly in her womb.
EVELYN SCOTT, "For Wives and Mistresses"
- The day is so long and white,
- A road all dust,
- Smooth monotony;
- And the night at the end,
- A hill to be climbed,
- Slowly, laboriously,
- While the stars prick our hands
- Like thistles.
EVELYN SCOTT, "Twenty-Four Hours"
Death is a child of stone.
EVELYN SCOTT, "Immortality"
- The moon ... is a mad woman holding up her dress
- So that her white belly shines.
- Silent and white as a debauched queen.
EVELYN SCOTT, "Autumn Night"