Anthony
@timesflow.bsky.social
Rootless cosmopolitan | Reading wildly | 'Obscure enough to be left in the sweetest of solitudes.' — De Quincey
https://timesflowstemmed.com
https://timesflowstemmed.com
Pinned
‘Habitually to dream magnificently, a man must have a constitutional determination to reverie.’ — Thomas De Quincey, ‘Suspiria de Profundis
Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles of years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro
On which lost the more by our love.
The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have the strength to die
Thomas Hardy, ‘Neutral Tones’
Over tedious riddles of years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro
On which lost the more by our love.
The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have the strength to die
Thomas Hardy, ‘Neutral Tones’
January 25, 2026 at 6:48 PM
Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles of years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro
On which lost the more by our love.
The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have the strength to die
Thomas Hardy, ‘Neutral Tones’
Over tedious riddles of years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro
On which lost the more by our love.
The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have the strength to die
Thomas Hardy, ‘Neutral Tones’
Reposted by Anthony
"dark night --
the first snowflakes
hit my neck" Issa Kobayashi
(image: Shotei Takahashi)
the first snowflakes
hit my neck" Issa Kobayashi
(image: Shotei Takahashi)
January 25, 2026 at 6:44 AM
"dark night --
the first snowflakes
hit my neck" Issa Kobayashi
(image: Shotei Takahashi)
the first snowflakes
hit my neck" Issa Kobayashi
(image: Shotei Takahashi)
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew,
And I was unaware.
Thomas Hardy, ‘The Darkling Thrush’
And I was unaware.
Thomas Hardy, ‘The Darkling Thrush’
January 25, 2026 at 7:22 AM
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew,
And I was unaware.
Thomas Hardy, ‘The Darkling Thrush’
And I was unaware.
Thomas Hardy, ‘The Darkling Thrush’
'Milton is credited with coining more new words even than Shakespeare (630 to Shakespeare's 229), and "freaked" is one of them, denoting the untidy-looking black blotch on a pansy's petals.'
John Carey, 'A Little History of Poetry'
John Carey, 'A Little History of Poetry'
January 24, 2026 at 8:52 AM
'Milton is credited with coining more new words even than Shakespeare (630 to Shakespeare's 229), and "freaked" is one of them, denoting the untidy-looking black blotch on a pansy's petals.'
John Carey, 'A Little History of Poetry'
John Carey, 'A Little History of Poetry'
Reposted by Anthony
@publisherswkly.bsky.social You refer to Judith Hermann's novel as a "deeply affecting English-language debut". This will be news to those who read translations of 'Alice' 15 years ago, not to speak of 'Summerhouse, Later', and 'Letti Park'. www.publishersweekly.com/9780374619510
We Would Have Told Each Other Everything by Judith Hermann
In this deeply affecting English-language debut, German writer Hermann reflects on the connections between art and experience, d...
www.publishersweekly.com
January 23, 2026 at 5:06 PM
@publisherswkly.bsky.social You refer to Judith Hermann's novel as a "deeply affecting English-language debut". This will be news to those who read translations of 'Alice' 15 years ago, not to speak of 'Summerhouse, Later', and 'Letti Park'. www.publishersweekly.com/9780374619510
Whenas in silks my Julia goes,
Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows
The liquefaction of her clothes.
Robert Herrick
Wonderful ‘liquefaction’.
Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows
The liquefaction of her clothes.
Robert Herrick
Wonderful ‘liquefaction’.
January 24, 2026 at 6:49 AM
Whenas in silks my Julia goes,
Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows
The liquefaction of her clothes.
Robert Herrick
Wonderful ‘liquefaction’.
Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows
The liquefaction of her clothes.
Robert Herrick
Wonderful ‘liquefaction’.
Reposted by Anthony
So good luck came, and on my roof did light
Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night:
Not all at once, but gently, as the trees
Are, by the sunbeams, tickled by degrees.
—Robert Herrick, 'The Coming of Good Luck'
Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night:
Not all at once, but gently, as the trees
Are, by the sunbeams, tickled by degrees.
—Robert Herrick, 'The Coming of Good Luck'
January 16, 2026 at 6:17 PM
So good luck came, and on my roof did light
Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night:
Not all at once, but gently, as the trees
Are, by the sunbeams, tickled by degrees.
—Robert Herrick, 'The Coming of Good Luck'
Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night:
Not all at once, but gently, as the trees
Are, by the sunbeams, tickled by degrees.
—Robert Herrick, 'The Coming of Good Luck'
Reposted by Anthony
Valéry:
“As a bird alights, I had to fall asleep.”
“As a bird alights, I had to fall asleep.”
January 24, 2026 at 6:41 AM
Valéry:
“As a bird alights, I had to fall asleep.”
“As a bird alights, I had to fall asleep.”
Reposted by Anthony
I may have traveled too far into winter.
—Solvej Balle, On the Calculation of Volume
—Solvej Balle, On the Calculation of Volume
January 23, 2026 at 12:10 AM
I may have traveled too far into winter.
—Solvej Balle, On the Calculation of Volume
—Solvej Balle, On the Calculation of Volume
Reposted by Anthony
Night fell before I was able to set aside the day… I am sitting in the garden…
I thought I was silent, but in reality, I presented my *inmost* self / to the night, / to the garden eased from the green of the day, / and to the animals lying all around.
— Maria Gabriela Llansol (diaries)
I thought I was silent, but in reality, I presented my *inmost* self / to the night, / to the garden eased from the green of the day, / and to the animals lying all around.
— Maria Gabriela Llansol (diaries)
January 20, 2026 at 4:01 AM
Night fell before I was able to set aside the day… I am sitting in the garden…
I thought I was silent, but in reality, I presented my *inmost* self / to the night, / to the garden eased from the green of the day, / and to the animals lying all around.
— Maria Gabriela Llansol (diaries)
I thought I was silent, but in reality, I presented my *inmost* self / to the night, / to the garden eased from the green of the day, / and to the animals lying all around.
— Maria Gabriela Llansol (diaries)
Reposted by Anthony
Elizabeth Bowen hosts dinner for Iris Murdoch, inter alia, at Bowen’s Court.
January 19, 2026 at 2:13 PM
Elizabeth Bowen hosts dinner for Iris Murdoch, inter alia, at Bowen’s Court.
Enjoying the unhurried eighteenth-century spaciousness so much that my intention to dip became a plan to read straight through. Smith writes as someone who actually likes people, observes them with affection. There's also a dry Scottish wit that surfaces unexpectedly. A companionable mind.
January 18, 2026 at 6:17 PM
Enjoying the unhurried eighteenth-century spaciousness so much that my intention to dip became a plan to read straight through. Smith writes as someone who actually likes people, observes them with affection. There's also a dry Scottish wit that surfaces unexpectedly. A companionable mind.
The “Lothian John Donne”.
‘O Lady, lighten our darkness’.
‘O Lady, lighten our darkness’.
January 17, 2026 at 3:23 PM
The “Lothian John Donne”.
‘O Lady, lighten our darkness’.
‘O Lady, lighten our darkness’.
Reposted by Anthony
“…that the new place is located at the point of dispersion. I anchor these images in oblivion…”
— from M. G. Llansol’s diaries
(trans. Audrey Young)
— from M. G. Llansol’s diaries
(trans. Audrey Young)
January 16, 2026 at 7:39 PM
“…that the new place is located at the point of dispersion. I anchor these images in oblivion…”
— from M. G. Llansol’s diaries
(trans. Audrey Young)
— from M. G. Llansol’s diaries
(trans. Audrey Young)
So good luck came, and on my roof did light
Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night:
Not all at once, but gently, as the trees
Are, by the sunbeams, tickled by degrees.
—Robert Herrick, 'The Coming of Good Luck'
Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night:
Not all at once, but gently, as the trees
Are, by the sunbeams, tickled by degrees.
—Robert Herrick, 'The Coming of Good Luck'
January 16, 2026 at 6:17 PM
So good luck came, and on my roof did light
Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night:
Not all at once, but gently, as the trees
Are, by the sunbeams, tickled by degrees.
—Robert Herrick, 'The Coming of Good Luck'
Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night:
Not all at once, but gently, as the trees
Are, by the sunbeams, tickled by degrees.
—Robert Herrick, 'The Coming of Good Luck'
Reposted by Anthony
The ghost of the Cambridge classical scholar Jane Harrison haunts the pages of Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One's Own (1929). Here's my post on the layers of connections, for over 30 years, these two writers shared.
The ghost of Jane Harrison
The woman who haunts Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own
akennedysmith.substack.com
January 11, 2026 at 4:26 PM
The ghost of the Cambridge classical scholar Jane Harrison haunts the pages of Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One's Own (1929). Here's my post on the layers of connections, for over 30 years, these two writers shared.
'Habit, of which passion must be wary, may all the same be the sweetest part of love.' — Elizabeth Bowen
January 11, 2026 at 6:12 PM
'Habit, of which passion must be wary, may all the same be the sweetest part of love.' — Elizabeth Bowen
Reposted by Anthony
Very taken by this c. 1530 painting of the cloth market in s'Hertogenbosch. The (anonymous) artist seems to have heard of perspective, but not quite to have got the hang of it. Apparently it was commissioned by the cloth-sellers guild, and Hieronymus Bosch lives in the 7th house from the right.
January 11, 2026 at 10:20 AM
Very taken by this c. 1530 painting of the cloth market in s'Hertogenbosch. The (anonymous) artist seems to have heard of perspective, but not quite to have got the hang of it. Apparently it was commissioned by the cloth-sellers guild, and Hieronymus Bosch lives in the 7th house from the right.
Reposted by Anthony
This is a really fascinating book. I particularly liked his description of childhood in 40s Dublin, his formative years, the drawing of anthropology into his thinking, and his travels in Iran. But it was full of riches and revelations, & I now have a pile of related articles and books to read.
Peter Brown's Journeys of the Mind is a beautifully written personal account of the discovery of late antiquity by one of the world’s most influential and distinguished historians.
The #paperback is now available worldwide!
Explore a free preview: press.princeton.edu/books/paperb...
The #paperback is now available worldwide!
Explore a free preview: press.princeton.edu/books/paperb...
January 11, 2026 at 8:52 AM
This is a really fascinating book. I particularly liked his description of childhood in 40s Dublin, his formative years, the drawing of anthropology into his thinking, and his travels in Iran. But it was full of riches and revelations, & I now have a pile of related articles and books to read.
Reposted by Anthony
“In December 2025, a memorial to Warner was unveiled on a pedestrianised shopping street in Dorchester.” #NYRBWomen26
January 11, 2026 at 5:37 PM
“In December 2025, a memorial to Warner was unveiled on a pedestrianised shopping street in Dorchester.” #NYRBWomen26
Ancient and hyperdense. Returned from Hong Kong. My first visit since I was ten years old.
January 11, 2026 at 5:44 PM
Ancient and hyperdense. Returned from Hong Kong. My first visit since I was ten years old.
(Almost) as good as Frances Wilson's 'Guilty Thing' on Thomas De Quincey: finished her Spark book a few days ago. Followed by Elizabeth Bowen's 'The Heat of the Day', a book greatly admired by both Frances Wilson and Muriel Spark.
First read of 2026. Such a terrific book, covering Muriel Spark’s path to becoming one of the 20th-Century’s most interesting novelists. Spark is a famously enigmatic figure, but Wilson comes up with some terrific insights into her life.
#BookSky
#BookSky
January 11, 2026 at 5:34 PM
(Almost) as good as Frances Wilson's 'Guilty Thing' on Thomas De Quincey: finished her Spark book a few days ago. Followed by Elizabeth Bowen's 'The Heat of the Day', a book greatly admired by both Frances Wilson and Muriel Spark.
My first Elizabeth Bowen. Slightly strange, precise sentences that run at an angle. Very distinctive prose, neither entirely realist, nor modernist.
January 10, 2026 at 2:22 PM
My first Elizabeth Bowen. Slightly strange, precise sentences that run at an angle. Very distinctive prose, neither entirely realist, nor modernist.
Reposted by Anthony
The dawn, even when it is cold and melancholy, never fails to shoot through my limbs as with arrows of sparkling piercing ice.
I pull aside the thick curtains, and search for the first glow in the sky which shows that life is breaking through.
Virginia Woolf
I pull aside the thick curtains, and search for the first glow in the sky which shows that life is breaking through.
Virginia Woolf
January 10, 2026 at 11:19 AM
The dawn, even when it is cold and melancholy, never fails to shoot through my limbs as with arrows of sparkling piercing ice.
I pull aside the thick curtains, and search for the first glow in the sky which shows that life is breaking through.
Virginia Woolf
I pull aside the thick curtains, and search for the first glow in the sky which shows that life is breaking through.
Virginia Woolf