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Herbert Gold

"Literature boils with the madcap careers of writers brought to the edge by the demands of living on their nerves, wringing out their memories and their nightmares to extract meaning, truth, beauty."

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"Literature boils with the madcap careers of writers brought to the edge by the demands of living on their nerves, wringing out their memories and their nightmares to extract meaning, truth, beauty."

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Amber Hurdle

"Then, were not summer's distillation leftA liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet."

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Amber Hurdle

"Explore the wonders of different shades of colours. It is purely lovely."

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Amber Hurdle

"All that is beautiful can only be felt."

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Amber Hurdle

"If I could write the beauty of your eyesAnd in fresh numbers number all your graces,The age to come would say 'this poet lies! Such heaven never touched earthly faces."

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Amber Hurdle

"The shades of colours are splendid."

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Amber Hurdle

"There is a beautiful village in every country."

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Amber Hurdle

"Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face. But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are eternity and you are the mirror."

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Amber Hurdle

"Do you think I'm pretty?He regarded me with utter seriousness, like he always did. "I think you're beautiful."Beautiful?"You are so beautiful, it hurts me sometimes."

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Amber Hurdle

"She was so beautiful that it made my soul ache."

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Amber Hurdle

"Whereas the beautiful is limited, the sublime is limitless, so that the mind in the presence of the sublime, attempting to imagine what it cannot, has pain in the failure but pleasure in contemplating the immensity of the attempt."

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Herbert Gold
"He carried his childhood like a hurt warm bird held to his middle-aged breast."
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Herbert Gold
"Diverting the internal traffic between the Writer as Angel of Light and the Writer as Hustler is that scribbling child in a grown-up body wondering if anybody is listening."
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Herbert Gold
"Literature boils with the madcap careers of writers brought to the edge by the demands of living on their nerves, wringing out their memories and their nightmares to extract meaning, truth, beauty."
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