Quotes by Poets - Page 87

I want to be clear about this. If you wrote from experience, you'd get maybe one book, maybe three poems. Writers write from empathy.
Nikki Giovanni
It has been more wittily than charitably said that hell is paved with good intentions. They have their place in heaven also.
Robert Southey
God befriend us as our cause is just!
William Shakespeare
OctoberO love, turn from the changing sea and gaze,Down these grey slopes, upon the year grown old,A-dying 'mid the autumn-scented hazeThat hangeth o'er the hollow in the wold,Where the wind-bitten ancient elms infoldGrey church, long barn, orchard, and red-roofed stead,Wrought in dead days for men a long while dead.Come down, O love; may not our hands still meet,Since still we live today, forgetting June,Forgetting May, deeming October sweet? - - Oh, hearken! hearken! through the afternoonThe grey tower sings a strange old tinkling tune!Sweet, sweet, and sad, the toiling year's last breath,To satiate of life, to strive with death.And we too -will it not be soft and kind,That rest from life, from patience, and from pain,That rest from bliss we know not when we find,That rest from love which ne'er the end can gain?- Hark! how the tune swells, that erewhile did wane!Look up, love! -Ah! cling close, and never move!How can I have enough of life and love?
William Morris
For this last, Before and in Corioli, let me say, I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers; And by his rare example made the coward Turn terror into sport: as weeds before A vessel under sail, so men obey'd And fell below his stem: his sword, death's stamp, Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot He was a thing of blood, whose every motion Was timed with dying cries: alone he enter'd The mortal gate of the city, which he painted With shunless destiny; aidless came off, And with a sudden reinforcement struck Corioli like a planet: now all's his: When, by and by, the din of war gan pierce His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate, And to the battle came he; where he did Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if 'Twere a perpetual spoil: and till we call'd Both field and city ours, he never stood To ease his breast with panting.
William Shakespeare
Everyday brought me further away from other people, I had been placed out of the world's sight, as if in a cupboard, and I hoped it would stay that way. I developed a yearning for being alone, unkempt, untended.
Herta Müller
Bipolar is an illness not a hopeless destination it can be maintained with proper medication
Stanley Victor Paskavich
Nothing: a landscape, a glass of wine, a little loveless love, and the vague sadness caused by our understanding nothing and having lost the little we're given.
Álvaro de Campos
I have a different idea of elegance. I don't dress like a fop, it's true, but my moral grooming is impeccable. I never appear in public with a soiled conscience, a tarnished honor, threadbare scruples, or an insult that I haven't washed away. I'm always immaculately clean, adorned with independence and frankness. I may not cut a stylish figure, but I hold my soul erect. I wear my deeds as ribbons, my wit is sharper then the finest mustache, and when I walk among men I make truths ring like spurs.
Edmond Rostand
Nothing ever becomes real 'til it is experienced.
John Keats
For your sake, jewel,I am glad at soul I have no other child;For thy escape would teach me tyranny,To hang clogs on them.
William Shakespeare
One of the characteristics of the dream is that nothing surprises us in it. With no regret, we agree to live in it with strangers, completely cut off from our habits and friends.
Jean Cocteau
Departure of a year welcomes so many new memories
Munia Khan
Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and to have her nonsense respected.
Charles Lamb
I suppose it's unfair, tricks of argument that leave wounds, but with this sort of thing that (C.S.) Lewis does, what I feel is a craftsman's joy at the sight of a superior performance.
Joy Davidman
In winter night Massachusetts Street is dismal, the ground's frozen cold, the ruts and pock holes have ice, thin snow slides over the jagged black cracks. The river is frozen to stolidity, waits; hung on a shore with remnant show-off boughs of June-- Ice skaters, Swedes, Irish girls, yellers and singers--they throng on the white ice beneath the crinkly stars that have no altar moon, no voice, but down heavy tragic space make halyards of Heaven on in deep, to where the figures fantastic amassed by scientists cream in a cold mass; the veil of Heaven on tiaras and diadems of a great Eternity Brunette called night.
Jack Kerouac
He who sings scares away his woes.
Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
On No Work of WordsOn no work of words now for three lean months in the bloodyBelly of the rich year and the big purse of my bodyI bitterly take to task my poverty and craft:To take to give is all, return what is hungrily givenPuffing the pounds of manna up through the dew to heaven,The lovely gift of the gab bangs back on a blind shaft.To lift to leave from the treasures of man is pleasing deathThat will rake at last all currencies of the marked breathAnd count the taken, forsaken mysteries in a bad dark.To surrender now is to pay the expensive ogre twice.Ancient woods of my blood, dash down to the nut of the seasIf I take to burn or return this world which is each man's work.
Dylan Thomas
Not every day is awful.Not every day is good.Despite the way the hours passI’m living like I should.Not every day is all wrong.Not every day is right.At least I’m not a spider trying to scamper out of sight.Not every day is ideal.Not every day is bad.At any rate I have my senseseven if they’re mad.Not every day is happy.Not every day is glum.When sadness drags me in the dumpsA simple tune I hum.Not every day I smile.Not every day I frown.With effort, I can take a scowland turn it upside down.Not every day is crazy.Not every day is sane.If consequence nips at my heelsI don’t pass on the blame.Not every day is giddy.Not every day is blah.Yet I can still appreciatea giggle and guffaw.Not every day is timid.Not every day is proud.I may not be a dragonbut I roar about as loud.Not every day has rainbows.Not every day has rain.Despite the fact I’m stiff and sore,I’m not in chronic pain.On every day the sun shines,so every night I praythat I might see the morning lightand live another day.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I knew one boy who passed through several schools a dunce and a laughing-stock; the National Board and the Intermediate Board had sat in judgment upon him and had damned him as a failure before men and angels. Yet a friend and fellow-worker of mine discovered that he was gifted with a wondrous sympathy for nature, that he loved and understood the ways of plants, that he had a strange minuteness and subtlety of observation—that, in short, he was the sort of boy likely to become an accomplished botanist.
Pádraic Pearse
With thousands of roads before us that lead nowhere, going in circles. There really are only two roads we will either travel, one going to heaven, or the other to hell.
Anthony Liccione
Dogs are loyal friends, and if they could talk, your secrets would still be safe. (If my cat could talk, I’d have to let the dog eat her.)
Richelle E. Goodrich
Time for you and time for me,tAnd time yet for a hundred indecisions,tAnd for a hundred visions and revisions,tBefore the taking of a toast and tea.
T.S Eliot
True alchemy lies in this formula: ‘Your memory and your senses are but the nourishment of your creative impulse’.
Arthur Rimbaud
And we will lie down on the ground and have conversations with the grasses and the flowers.
Avijeet Das
I fancied you'd return the way you said,But I grow old and I forget your name. --From the poem "Mad Girl's Love Song
Sylvia Plath
It is not right to exult over slain men.
Homer
Isn't it strange that what we call "self" doesn't really constitute of our "own". It consists of parts and bits of so many people around us! People who helped us, people who laughed with us, people who wiped our tears, people who walked with us, people whom we looked up to as idols, people who silently followed us, people who hated us, people who challenged us! We are a net integral of all these, isn't it?
Neelam Saxena Chandra
Ruskin says that anyone who expects perfection from a work of art knows nothing of works of art. This is an appealing sentence that, so far as I can see, is not true about a few pictures and statues and pieces of music, short stories and short poems. Whether or not you expect perfection from them, you get it; at least, there is nothing in them that you would want changed. But what Ruskin says is true about novels: anyone who expects perfection from even the greatest novel knows nothing of novels.
Randall Jarrell
It is better for the heart to break, than not to break.
Mary Oliver
Sleep, those little slices of death — how I loathe them.
Edgar Allan Poe
Before the thunderous clamor of political debate or war set loose in the world, love insisted on its promise for the possibility of human unity: between men and women, between blacks and whites, northerners and southerners, haves and have-have-nots, self and self.
Aberjhani
After having imposed itself on us like the egomaniac it is, clamouring about its own needs, foisting upon us its own sordid and perilous desires, the body's final trick is simply to absent itself. Just when you need it, just when you could use an arm or a leg, suddenly the body has other things to do. It falters, it buckles under you; it melts away as if made of snow, leaving nothing much. Two lumps of coal, an old hat, a grin made of pebbles. The bones dry sticks, easily broken.
Margaret Atwood
The only trust required is to know that when there is one ending there will be another beginning.
Clarissa Pinkola Estés
Saints are sinners who kept on going.
Robert Louis Stevenson
All religions are equally sublime to the ignorant, useful to the politician, and ridiculous to the philosopher.
Titus Lucretius Carus
When you go against the flow of nature and betray the spiritual laws existing within, there is, and always will be, a negative reaction. Those who try escaping life before fate shakes their hand, will forever be stuck on earth, chained to the place they so badly wanted to leave. What a complicated misery. I guarantee you it will be torture to be invisible and ignored by those you love when you can see them - but you are already dead for them to hear you utter another word. Talk about agony, more so, than remaining on this plane and continuing your spiritual cycle as it was written to be lived.
Suzy Kassem
In New York, when a tree dies, nobody mourns that it was cut down in its prime. Nobody counts the rings, notifies the loved ones. There are other trees. We can always squeeze in one more. Mind the tourists. It's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't wanna live there.
Sarah Kay
It's not how many friends you can count, it's how many of those you can count on.
Anthony Liccione
Ever reviled, accursed, ne'er understood,Thou art the grisly terror of our age."Wreck of all order," cry the multitude,"Art thou, & war & murder's endless rage."0, let them cry. To them that ne'er have strivenThe 'truth that lies behind a word to find, To them the word's right meaning was not given.They shall continue blind among the blind.But thou, O word, so clear, so strong, so true,Thou sayest all which I for goal have taken.I give thee to the future! Thine secureWhen each at least unto himself shall waken.Comes it in sunshine? In the tempest's thrill?I cannot tell - but it the earth shall see!I am an Anarchist! Wherefore I willNot rule, & also ruled I will not be!
John Henry Mackay
Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.
Kahlil Gibran
Broken GlassI watched herBeardlessWith little ego,FightingOn top ofThe ceiling,Like CinderellaIn high heelsLooking forHer glass slippersNo ties required!!
Charmaine J.Forde
the worstthing that ever happenedtothe worldwasthe white man coming across gun powder.–– the end of the world | the beginning of white supremacy
Nayyirah Waheed
You baffle me, addle me, drive me insane. You muddle, befuddle, and rattle my brain. My senses are mad, Skewed judgment to blame.You drive me half stark-raving bonkers!(But the truly crazy thing is how I love it.)
Richelle E. Goodrich
Reach high, for stars lie hidden in you. Dream deep, for every dream precedes the goal.
Rabindranath Tagore
Women show men beauty in things beyond their ambitions. Women tell men to stop and smell the roses.
Criss Jami
Such as make the sacrament only a representation of Christ do aim short of the mystery, and come short of the comfort.
Thomas Watson
If all we had were roses, would the thorns then be beautiful?
Kamand Kojouri
It's a selfish habit. I never learn anything from listening to myself.
Barbara Kingsolver
Our lips were for each other and our eyes were full of dreams. We knew nothing of travel and we knew nothing of loss. Ours was a world of eternal spring, until the summer came.
Roman Payne
I hear they make greeting cards now to thank your therapist... for NOTHING
Casey Renee Kiser
Songwriting and poetry are so commonly birthed from underdogs because one can make even the ugliest situations admirable, or more beautiful than the beautiful situations - they are the most graceful media in which the lines of society are distorted.
Criss Jami
A jury consists of twelve persons chosen to decide who has the better lawyer.
Robert Frost
Praise be to God I’m not good,And have the natural egotism of flowersAnd rivers following their bedPreoccupied without knowing itOnly with blooming and flowing.This is the only mission in the World,This—to exist clearly,And to know how to do it without thinking about it.)
Alberto Caeiro
mr youse needn't be so spryconcernin questions artyeach has his tastes but as for ii likes a certain partygimme the he-man's solid blissfor youse ideas i'll match yousea pretty girl who naked isis worth a million statues
E.E. Cummings
Champagne arrived in flûtes on trays, and we emptied them with gladness in our hearts… for when feasts are laid and classical music is played, where champagne is drunk once the sun has sunk and the season of summer is alive in spicy bloom, and beautiful women fill the room, and are generous with laughter and smiles… these things fill men’s hearts with joy and remind one that life’s bounty is not always fleeting but can be captured, and enjoyed. It is in writing about this scene that I relive this night in my soul.
Roman Payne
The leaders and followers of the Harlem Renaissance were every bit as intent on using Black culture to help make the United States a more functional democracy as they were on employing Black culture to 'vindicate' Black people.
Aberjhani
Mineral cactai,quicksilver lizards in the adobe walls,the bird that punctures space,thirst, tedium, clouds of dust, impalpable epiphanies of wind.The pines taught me to talk to myself.In that garden I learnedto send myself off.Later there were no gardens.
Octavio Paz
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes. Is that all?
Dejan Stojanovic
Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy,With purpose to explore or to disturbThe secrets of your realm, but by constraint Wand'Ring this darksome desert, as my wayLies through your spacious empire up to light,Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seekWhat readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds Confine with Heav'n; or if som other place From your Dominion won, th' Ethereal King Possesses lately, thither to arriveI travel this profound, direct my course; Directed no mean recompence it brings To your behoof, if I that Region lost, All usurpation then expelled, reduce To her original darkness and your sway (Which is my present journey) and once moreErect the Standard there of ancient Night; Yours be th' advantage all, mine the revenge.970-987
John Milton