flop.
First three community cards, exposed simultaneously.
—Positively Fifth Street, by James McManus, 2003.
flush.
Five cards of the same suit.
—Positively Fifth Street, by James McManus, 2003.
rainbow.
Flop with three different suits.
From the text (p. 204): “Raising to $1,200, I get three nasty callers, but the flop comes a ravishing K-J-8 rainbow. (The three different suits of a rainbow greatly reduce the chances of someone else’s making a flush.)”
—Positively Fifth Street, by James McManus, 2003.
shimmering, impalpable curtains of colour
“[With] the delicate brushwork, exquisitely subtle colour harmonies and expansive centreless compositions of the Water Lilies . . . Monet’s aim was still the presentation of an immediate experience of nature, but his water-lily garden at Giverny held for him intimations of infinity and his contemplative visions of it give the illusion of a glimpse into an endless whole. His almost spaceless views downwards, on to and through the surface of the pool become shimmering, impalpable curtains of colour. The natural world disappears into near-abstract patterns of vibrating light and atmosphere.”
—Hugh Honour & John Fleming, from The Visual Arts: A History, 1982.
marvelous, steady, caressing light
“An extraordinary golden light, delicate, radiant, transparent, suddenly flooded the room, softly but clearly outlining its walls, gleaming equipment, and the figure of my teacher himself. And, at the same moment, I felt on my face and hands something like a warm breath of air. This phenomenon lasted no more than a second or a second and a half. Then heavy darkness concealed everything from my eyes.
‘Lights, please!’ exclaimed Lord Charlesbury and once more I saw him emerging from the door of the glass chamber. His face was pale, but illuminated by joy and pride.
. . . ‘You saw that marvelous, steady, caressing light. Now do you belive in my project?‘
‘Yes,’ I answered heatedly, with profound conviction. ‘I believe in it and I bow before an invention of great genius.’”
—Alexander Kuprin, from Liquid Sunshine, 1913. Translated from the Russian by Lelant Fetzer in 1980.
universal light
“Hypocrites give attention to
form, the right and wrong ways of professing belief. Grow instead in universal light.
When that revealed itself out of nonexistence, God gave it a robe and a thousand different names,
the least of those sweet-breathing names being the one who is not in need of anyone.
When that comes, daylight looks dark, and when your foolishness, which doesn’t recognize
such beauty, becomes visible to you, night dark will seem glowing beside it. Let your eyes
get used to light. Don’t miss your own splendour!”
—Jalal al-Din Rumi (1207–1273), from the Masnavi, Book IV. The Soul of Rumi: A New Collection of Ecstatic Poems, translated by Coleman Barks, 2001.
Paradox
“Nonexistence contains existence. Love
encloses beauty. Brown flint and gray steel have orange candlelight in them. Inside
fear, safety. In the black pupil of the eye, many brilliancies.”
—Jalal al-Din Rumi (1207–1273), from Paradox. The Soul of Rumi: A New Collection of Ecstatic Poems, translated by Coleman Barks, 2001.
I am the crescent moon
“I feel the source of the power of Rumi’s spontaneous poetic derives from his continual balance of surrender and discipline, his visionary radiance held in the level calm of ordinary sight. Splendor and practice, meditation and chore—somewhere in the dynamic of those lies the vitality and validity. . . .
The universe and the light of the stars come through me. (fana)
I am the crescent moon put up over the gate to the festival. (baqa)
The “crescent moon” is undoubtedly some plywood device nailed over the fairground entrance. Baqa often includes a little joke about the grandeur.”
—Coleman Barks, from the introduction to The Soul of Rumi: A New Collection of Ecstatic Poems, 2001.
my gold
“Volpone. Good morning to the day; and next, my gold:
Open the shrine, that I may see my saint.”
—Ben Jonson, from Volpone, 1606.
Fetch me the red
“Lady Wishfort. Fetch me the red—the red, do you hear, sweetheart? An arrant ash colour, as I’m a person. Look you how this wench stirs! Why dost thou not fetch me a little red? Didst thou not hear me, Mopus?
Peg. The red ratafia does your ladyship mean, or the cherry-brandy?
Lady Wishfort. Ratafia, fool. No, fool. Not the ratafia, fool—grant me patience! I mean the Spanish paper, idiot, complexion, darling. Paint, paint, paint, dost though understand that, changeling, dangling thy hands like bobbins before thee”
—William Congreve, The Way of the World, 1700.