What exile from himself can flee? To zones, though more and more remote, Still, still pursues, where'er I be, The blight of life--the demon Thought.
Agosins poetic language engages the reader in a mesmerizing journey of inward reflection and exile.
Merely by being born intelligent, you right away find yourself in absolute exile.
Exile is more than a geographical concept. You can be an exile in your homeland, in your own house, in a room.
In the 70s I was in exile; every time I went back I wondered if they'd take my passport away.
The concept of loneliness and exile and self-sufficiency continually bucks me up.
Those who have never suffered the iniquities of exile cannot possibly understand the significance, the gravitas, of a mattress.
I would never write, ever. I might as well exile myself.
No one drives me into exile, not even the nationalists.
EXILE, n. One who serves his country by residing abroad, yet is not an ambassador.
Show us your Christ, Lady, after this our exile, yes: but show Him to us also now, show Him to us here, while we are still wanderers.
Tis the privilege of Art Thus to play its cheerful part, Man on earth to acclimate And bend the exile to his fate.
We all carry within us places of exile, our crimes, our ravages. Our task is not to unleash them on the world; it is to transform them in ourselves and others.
Lots of times you can feel as an exile in a country that you were born in.
You can imprison a man, but not an idea. You can exile a man, but not an idea. You can kill a man, but not an idea.
I think to be in exile is a curse, and you need to turn it into a blessing. Youve been thrown into exile to die, really, to silence you so that your voice cannot come home. And so my whole life has been dedicated to saying, I will not be silenced.
The act of writing is for me often nothing more than the secret or conscious desire to carve words on a tombstone: to the memory of a town forever vanished, to the memory of a childhood in exile, to the memory of all those I loved and who, before I could tell them I loved them, went away.
I am an exile; citizen of the country of longing.
The moment you’ve uttered the exact dimensionality of your exile, you’re already turning towards home.
Home for the exile in a secular and contingent world is always provisional