FragLit

an online magazine of fragmentary writing

::

Solitude

Spring 2010 :: Current Issue

Out of Context

Marty Rubin

My ideal journey: set out early and never arrive.

::

Every lock that breaks sets a key free.

::

A long silence never means what it says.

::

Rain is the picnic when it rains.

::

Where does the wind stand?

::

Optimists think badly, but live well.

::

The unknown is a kind of light.

::

Between thoughts, travel far and wide.

::

Dreams that scare us wake us up.

::

Water flows because it’s willing.

::

Writing is talking to yourself—with the hope of being overheard.

::

Wisdom gives bad advice.

::

More sailors have drowned in words than in the sea.

::

Not the light ahead, but the wind pushing me from behind.

::

I have no heroes except flowers and children.

::

Thought is a splinter in the eye.

::

Sometimes out of sheer perversity reality conforms to my wishes.

::

Beware of those who aren’t content with soup and bread.

::

Art: a conversation through a locked door.

::

Change is always trivial compared to what doesn’t change.

::

We no longer know what we feel when we can say what we feel.

::

Your faith is weak if you can’t lose it.

::

When the train stays on the tracks, you don’t ask why.

::

The lifting of an arm or leg is magic.

::

The news wouldn’t worry us, if we weren’t already worried.

::

Real dishes break. That’s how you know they’re real.

::

Tell the world your secret, but keep it from yourself.

::

My drug of choice is Yes.

::

When the wings are too heavy, the bird can’t fly.

::

You don’t know how to live. You live.

::

Getting lost is part of getting there.

::

Looking in the mirror is seeing what other people see.

::

Grace rides inside the wave.

::

Some truths can only be seen in the dark.

::

The places you’ve been in your imagination are places you’ve never been.

::

If you need a second to think, it’s too late.

::

The key to every lock doesn’t open any door.

::

What variety is to life, contradiction is to the mind.

::

To hate everything is to be wounded by everything.

::

When you look into things you see things that aren’t there.

::

The fenced-in dog barks at the one running free.

::

Like Noah I built my ark, but the floods never came.

::

Death is. That’s its only excuse.

::

Language—a mirror in front of a window.

::

A dream separates, but a look unites.

::

A few names have survived oblivion. In time oblivion will have them all.

::

A cat believes in its claws even when they’re cut.

::

If it rains tonight, rain will be the cause.

::

Happiness exists, but not the conditions of happiness.

::

Things put in the wrong place have found a new place.

::

Every line is the perfect length if you don’t measure it.

::

Some lives, like some remarks, only make sense out of context.

::

Words make known. But we live in the unknown.

::

Tell the truth. It’s more disturbing than telling lies.

::

New ideas wind up on the same trash heap as the old ones.

::

Humanity will never solve its problems as long as there are people around.

::

If you’re in a hurry…don’t go.

::

The leaves on the water, the fog under the bridge. That’s what I believe in.

::

Blessed are they who expect nothing, for they’ll be pleasantly surprised.

:::


Copyright © 2010 FragLit | Admin