1
It is strange to hear my words Read back to me. I don't think I wrote them To have them ever leave the page. I think I only write What happens across my brain When my feet are too weary To dance anymore.Stasia Ward Kehoe
2
Do I dare ask him for what I want, As if I knew it, Could find it on some page In some chapter In some book?Stasia Ward Kehoe
3
To distort our faces with joy, or wail and weep with sorrow, or collapse in agony, or wallow in sentimentality — wasn’t an inviolable human trait but something we can lose simply by leading dull and dreary lives. ‘A rich emotional life, ’ she’d written, ‘is a privilege reserved only for the daring few’.Unknown
4
Does it matter that people and things Have words, Have names? If not, Why read any book? A litany of useless letters Detached from bone, muscle. Or are words the only things that make the muscle, bone, memory, movement, Person Real?Stasia Ward Kehoe
5
It was the face of a human being who’d been constructed exclusively of wounds. Not time or history or ambition, nothing but wounds. The face of a person who could probably kill someone without feeling anything whatsoever.Unknown
6
Dare I tell them that since I came here to dance I have been giving pieces of my body away To ridiculous diets, To repeated injuries, To Remington?And that maybe I think With each bit of my body I lose a little piece of my soulStasia Ward Kehoe
7
People were infected with the concept that happiness was something outside themselves, and a new and powerful form of loneliness was born. Mix loneliness with stress and enervation, and all sorts of madness can occur. Anxiety increases, and in order to obliterate the anxiety, people turn to extreme sex, violence, and even murder.Unknown
8
But sometimes things happen that no one hopes for. Events that cause everything you've worked towards, the life you've carefully constructed piece by piece, to come tumbling down all around you. No one is to blame, but you're left with a wound you can't heal on your own and can't believe you'll ever learn to accept, so you struggle to escape the pain. Only time can heal wounds as deep as that - a lot of time - and all you can really do is place yourself in its hands and try to consider the passing of each day a victory. You tough it out moment by moment, hour by hour, and after some weeks or months you begin to see signs of recovery. Slowly the wound heals into a scar.Unknown
9
That’s what violence was: emotion leaking out from consciousness into the physical world, linking up with the muscles of the arms and shoulders and diaphragm and, inevitably, the face. Stifle emotion during an act of violence and the face becomes a blank, unreadable mask.Unknown
10
I feel his arm Lightly Over me. He takes one of my outstretched hands. Draws it beneath my stomach." One more time..." This is not sex, Not friendship. SomethingStrangeSpecialIn the stillness of his breath, The waterlike way he moves. He is making a dance. We are making a dance.Stasia Ward Kehoe
11
Four laughs vibrate in harmony, Warm Delicious Real.Stasia Ward Kehoe