Richard Siken Quotes

• Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well.

  Richard Siken

  Muro, Caída, Tomado

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• I sleep. I dream. I make up things that I would never say. I say them very quietly.

  Richard Siken

  Soñar, dormir

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• We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven, which brings us back to the hero’s shoulders and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.

  Richard Siken

  Stars, Hero, Violence

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• You play along, because you want to die for love, you always have.

  Richard Siken

  Love You, Play, Want

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• You're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for.

  Richard Siken

  Oración, Corazón, Nombres

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• Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you? That I would take you there? The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube?

  Richard Siken

  Stars, Names, Too Much

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• Déjame decirte lo que sí sé: Soy más de una cosa, y no todas esas cosas son buenas. La verdad es complicada. Es bicolor, multivocal, agridulce. Solía pensar que si escarbaba lo suficiente para descubrir algo triste y feo, sabría que era algo verdadero. Ahora intento cavar más hondo. No quería escribir estas páginas hasta que no hubiera sentimientos duros, agudos. No puedo permitirme ese lujo. Estoy triste y enfadada y quiero que todo el mundo vuelva a estar vivo. Quiero más hitos y menos minas terrestres. Quiero estar agradecida, pero me cuesta.

  Richard Siken

  Grateful, Writing, Thinking

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• He was pointing at the moon, but I was looking at his hand.

  Richard Siken

  Moon, Hands, Pointing

  Richard Siken (2015). “War of the Foxes”, p.46, Copper Canyon Press

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• You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I say or love me back.

  Richard Siken

  Together, Stitches, Remember

  Richard Siken, “Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out”

  32 Copiar cita

• Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.

  Richard Siken

  Sides, Sometimes, Ends

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• When you have nothing to say,
  set something on fire.

  Richard Siken

  Fuego

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• A man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river                     but then he’s still left with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away                                                                         but then he’s still left with his hands.

  Richard Siken

  Sadness, Men, Hands

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• ¿Nos limitamos a mirar lo que es horrible y lo perdonamos?

  Richard Siken

  Forgiving, Horrible, Staring

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• Oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued.

  Richard Siken

  Want, Scared

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• Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we'll never get used to it.

  Richard Siken

  Light, And Love, Body

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• I don't know where I end and the world begins. My best guess? Skin. It's the only actual boundary between the body and the world, between a body and any other body.

  Richard Siken

  Skins, World, Body

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• I wanted to be wanted and he was very beautiful, kissed with his eyes closed, and only felt good while moving. You could drown in those eyes, I said, so it’s summer, so it’s suicide, so we’re helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.

  Richard Siken

  Beautiful, Summer, Suicide

  6 Copiar cita

• You wanted happiness, I can’t blame you for that, and maybe a mouth sounds idiotic when it blathers on about joy but tell me you love this, tell me you’re not miserable.

  Richard Siken

  Joy, Sound, Mouths

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• I woke up in the morning and I didn’t want anything, didn’t do anything, couldn’t do it anyway, just lay there listening to the blood rush through me and it never made any sense, anything.

  Richard Siken

  Morning, Blood, Listening

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• I'm saying your name in the grocery store, I'm saying your name on the bridge at dawn. Your name like an animal covered with frost, your name like a music that's been transposed, a suit of fur, a coat of mud, a kick in the pants, a lungful of glass, the sails in wind and the slap of waves on the hull.

  Richard Siken

  Animal, Glasses, Wind

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• Everyone needs a place. It shouldn't be inside of someone else.

  Richard Siken

  Necesita

  Richard Siken (2015). “War of the Foxes”, p.38, Copper Canyon Press

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• No estoy sugiriendo que el mundo sea bueno, que la vida sea fácil o que cualquiera de nosotros tenga derecho a algo mejor. Pero, por favor, ¿no es este el tipo de cosas de las que se habla en tono sombrío, por la tarde, con cierto grado de esperanza y quizá incluso con un puñado de estrategias?

  Richard Siken

  Degrees, Afternoon, World

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• I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you've taken something out of me and I have to search my body for scars.

  Richard Siken

  Taken, Feelings, Body

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• Hello, darling. Sorry about that. Sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud. Especially that, but I should have known. You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I say or love me back.

  Richard Siken

  Sorry, Should Have, Together

  Richard Siken, “Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out”

  26 Copiar cita

• ...you're waiting because you thought it would follow, you thought there would be some logic, perhaps, something to pull it all together but here we are in the weeds again, here we are in the bowels of the thing: your world doesn't make sense.

  Richard Siken

  Weed, Waiting, Together

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