I, Mary MacLane: A Diary of Human Days

Contents

A crucible of my own making

Half inevitably, half by choice

A twisted moral

Everyday and to-morrow

A mathematic dead-wall

My neat blue chair

A lost person

A thin damnedness

A prison of self

A winding sheet

The Dover road

The harp of worn strings

A strongly-windy Saturday

A someway separate individual

Sincerity and despair

It’s not death

A human prerogative

The merciless beauty

My shoes

An eerie quality

A helliad

Swift go my days

To express me

Bastard lacy valentines

Sweet fine sweatings of blood

Instinct—a ‘first law’

Loose twos

Knitting or plaiting straw

A life-long lonely word

Their voices

My damns

To God, care of the whistling winds

A working diaphragm

Lot’s wife

My echoing footsteps

A comfortably vicious person

In my black dress and my still room

Their little shoes

The sleep of the dead

Stickily mad

God compensates me

The strange braveness

Just beneath my skin

God’s kindly caprice

A fascinating creature

No resonance

Black-browed Wednesdays

The conscious analyst

Eye when I mean tooth

A wild mare

The mist

A white liner

Beneficent bedlam

A deathly pathos

The necklace

Slyly garbling and cross-purposing

Not quite voilà-tout

A damned spider

To wander and hang and float about

A thousand kisses

A fluttering-moth wish

Twenty inches of ajarness

A profoundly delicious idea

A mountebank’s cloak

A familiar sharp twist

A dark bright fierce fire

Late afternoon

An ancient witch-light

The gray-purple

The subdivided cell

Food and fire

The edge of mist-and-silver

A right shape and size

Ice-water, corrosive acid and human breath

Rhythm

A prayer-feeling