“I’m a maker of ballads right pretty
I write them right here in the street
You can buy them all over the city
yours for a penny a sheet
I’m a word pecker out of the printers
out of the dens of Gin Lane
I’ll write up a scene on a counter
- confessions and sins in the main, boys
confessions and sins in the main

Then you’ll find me in Madame Geneva’s
keeping the demons at bay
There’s nothing like gin for drowning them in
but they’ll always be back on a hanging day, on a hanging day

They come rattling over the cobbles
they sit on their coffins of black
Some are struck dumb, some gabble
top-heavy on brandy or sack
The pews are all full of fine fellows
and the hawker has set up her shop
As they’re turning them off at the gallows
she’ll be selling right under the drop, boys
selling right under the drop

Then you’ll find me in Madame Geneva’s
keeping the demons at bay
There’s nothing like gin for drowning them in
but they’ll always be back on a hanging day, on a hanging day”
― Mark Knopfler, Kill to Get Crimson

“The Puritans thought that we are granted the ability to love
only through miracle,
but the troubadours knew how to burn themselves through,
how to make themselves shrines to their own longing.
The spectacular was never behind them.”
― Mary Szybist, Incarnadine: Poems

“A Bohemian life,
filled with poetry,
it cuts like a knife,
without coquetry!”
― Ana Claudia Antunes, Pierrot & Columbine

“Above all, love must be freely given, by mutual consent on both sides, through the exercise of free will. Because it is thus freely chosen, it is an act of humanity and civilisation, neither a daemonic possession such as hurled Dido upon her funeral pyre or Medea upon her children, not the base stirrings of concupiscence.”
― Marina Warner, Alone of All Her Sex: The Myth and the Cult of the Virgin Mary