By-Grand-Central-Station-I-Sat-Down-and-Wept

“By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept,” by Elizabeth Smart 

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The train was waiting and she was sitting there reading. I saw her through the open doors. I walked in, took a seat infront of her, and I photographed her. She became aware of me after I took the shot. Instinctively, I knew that her awareness was informed. She looked up and asked, “Are you the underground?”. I hesitated for a moment, as I wondered myself if I was the underground. Then I quickly said yes. She took my hand and held it, so warmly, like we were already connected. I won’t forget it. That moment will be a part of me. It will enrich my work. Thank you. 

To deny love and to deceive it meanly by pretending that what is unconsummated remains eternal, or that love sublimated reaches highest to heavenly love, is repulsive, as the hypocrite’s face is repulsive when placed too near the truth. Farther off from the centre of the world, of all worlds, I might be better fooled, but can I see the light of a match while burning in the arms of the sun?
—  Elizabeth Smart, By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept

“O the water of love that floods everything over, so there is nothing the eye sees that is not covered in. There is no angle the world can assume which the love in my eye cannot make into a symbol of love. Even the precise geometry of his hand, when I gaze at it, dissolves me into water and I flow away in a flood of love.”

Elizabeth Smart, By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept