The sigh of History rises over ruins, not over landscapes, and in the Antilles there are few ruins to sigh over, apart from the ruins of sugar estates and abandoned forts.
She's a rare vase, out of a cat's reach, on its shelf.
The English language is nobody's special property.
The thing that is believed is a reality.
The mirror is believed the way a poem is believed. It's believed because it's there.
In Eden who sleeps happiest? The serpent.