Author: Derek Walcott

Cites

• Samuel Beckett (1)
  • IN: Dream On Monkey Mountain (1970) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: But I see what it is, you are not from these parts, you don't know what our twilights can do. Shall I tell you?
    FROM: Waiting for Godot, (1953), Play, Ireland

Cited by

• Catherine Banner (1)
  • IN: The House at the Edge of Night (2016) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: But Islands can only exist If we have loved in them.
    FROM: "Islands", (1962), Poem, Saint Lucia
• Colette McBeth (1)
  • IN: The Life I Left Behind (2015) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Sit. Feast on your life.
    FROM: Love After Love, (1976), Poem, Saint Lucia
• Monique Roffey (1)
  • IN: Archipelago (2012) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: But islands can only exist If we have loved in them.
    FROM: Islands, (1962), Poem, Saint Lucia
• Andrea Lee (1)
  • IN: Lost Hearts in Italy (2006) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: In it is no lacrimae rerum, No art. Only the gift To see things as they are, halved by a darkness From which they cannot shift.
    FROM: A Map of Europe, (1965), Poem, Saint Lucia
• Junot Diaz (1)
  • IN: The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (2007) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Christ have mercy on all sleeping things! From that dog rotting down Wrightson Road to when I was a dog on these streets; if loving these islands must be my load, out of corruption my soul takes wings, But they had started to poison my soul with their big house, big car, big-time bohbohl, coolie, nigger, Surian, and French Creole, so I leave if for them and their carnival -- I taking a sea-bath, I gone down the road. I know these islands from Monos to Nassau, a rusty head sailor with sea-green eyes that they nickname Shabine, the patois for any red nigger, and I, Shabine, saw when these slums of empire was paradise. I'm just a red nigger who love the sea, I had a sound colonial education, I have Dutch, nigger, and English in me, and either I'm nobody, or I'm a nation.
    FROM: The Schooner Flight, (1979), Poem, Saint Lucia
• Audrey Niffenegger (2)
  • IN: The Time Traveler’s Wife (2003) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: The time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other’s welcome, and say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.
    FROM: "Love After Love", (1976), Poem, Saint Lucia
  • IN: The Time Traveler's Wife (2003) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: The time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other's welcome, and say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.
    FROM: Love After Love, (1984), Poem, Saint Lucia
• wa Thiong'o Ngūgī (1)
  • IN: Petals of Blood (1977) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: Fearful, original sinuosities! Each mangrove sapling Serpentlike, its roots obscene As a six-fingered hand, Conceals within its clutch the mossbacked toad, Toadstools, the potent ginger-lily, Petals of blood, The speckled vulva of the tiger-orchid; Outlandish phalloi Haunting the travellers of its one road.
    FROM: The Swamp, (1964), Poem, Saint Lucia
• Jesmyn Ward (1)
  • IN: Sing, Unburied, Sing (2017) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: The Gulf shines, dull as lead. The coast of Texas glints like a metal rim. I have no home as long as summer bubbling to its head boils for that day when in the Lord God's name the coals of fire are heaped upon the head of all whose gospel is the whip and flame, age after age, the uninstructing dead.
    FROM: "The Gulf", (1969), Book, Saint Lucia