Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
And the more pity that great folk should have count'nance in this world to drown or hang themselves more than their even-Christen.
Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying med'cine, Hath not in nature's mystery more science Than I have in this ring.
Death is my son-in-law. Death is my heir. My daughter he hath wedded. I will die, And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death’s.
Virtues, like essences, lose their fragrance when exposed. They are sensitive plants, which will not bear too familiar approaches.
Too late I stayed, - forgive the crime! Unheeded flew the hours; How noiseless falls the foot of time That only treads on flowers.
The world is too much with us; late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours.
There is a comfort in the strength of love; 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else would overset the brain, or break the heart.
Because the good old rule Sufficeth them,-the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can.
When I pronounce the word Future, the first syllable already belongs to the past. When I pronounce the word Silence, I destroy it.
Hours are golden links, God's token Reaching heaven; but one by one Take them, lest the chain be broken Ere the pilgrimage be done.
Nothing could have prepared me for the realization that I was a mother ... when I knew I was still in a state of uncreation myself.
When someone, let's say a teacher, speaks of the world and you are not in it, it's like looking into the mirror and seeing nothing.
To be bowed by grief is folly; Naught is gained by melancholy; Better than the pain of thinking, Is to steep the sense in drinking.
The average man cannot believe that an artist may be as serious and highminded an observer of life as the professed man of science.
As a child, all you see is that adults are not playing. Adults are not talking too much. Adults don't want to relate to each other.
The scripture in times of disputes is like an open town in times of war, which serves in differently the occasions of both parties.
Modest plainness sets off sprightly wit, For works may have more with than does 'em good, As bodies perish through excess of blood.
Of love that never found his earthly close, What sequel? Streaming eyes and breaking hearts; Or all the same as if he had not been?
And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons, when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet.
I never dreamed the sea so deep, The earth so dark; so long my sleep, I have become another child. I wake to see the world go wild.
In its majestic equality, the law forbids rich and poor alike to sleep under bridges, beg in the streets and steal loaves of bread.
I've heard of translators collaborating closely with their authors, sometimes even living with them for a while, but that's not me.
It's still a mystery to me exactly how I learned the language. [But] I was 19 years old and I had very urgent things to tell girls.
As lines, so loves oblique, may well Themselves in every angle greet; But ours, so truly parallel, Though infinite, can never meet.
It was as if a morning-glory had bloomed in her throat, and all that blue and small pollen ate into my heart, violent and religious
I who was a house full of bowel movement, I who was a defaced altar, I who wanted to crawl toward God could not move nor eat bread.
The grass as bristly and stout as chives and me wondering when the ground will break and me wondering how anything fragile survives
Children know from a remarkably early age that things are being kept from them, that grown-ups participate in a world of mysteries.
Hell is the bloodcurdling mansion of time, in whose profoundest circle Satan himself waits, winding a gargantuan watch in his hand.
Zeus, the father of the Olympic Gods, turned mid-day into night, hiding the light of the dazzling Sun; and sore fear came upon men.
We follow and race In shifting chase, Over the boundless ocean-space! Who hath beheld when the race begun? Who shall behold it run?
If our dreams could edit the news (and sometimes our nightmares) these poems are how they'd wake us up to the urgency of our times.
I 'm on the sea! I 'm on the sea! I am where I would ever be, With the blue above and the blue below, And silence wheresoever I go.
What paper planes and empty seats most have in common is that they are best made by children still learning how to ride things out.
I'm practically broke and homeless. This fatal city, Antioch, has devoured all my money: this fatal city with its extravagant life.
For me, poetry is the music of being human. And also a time machine by which we can travel to who we are and to who we will become.
Beware of all the paradoxical in love. It is simplicity which saves, it is simplicity which brings happiness...Love should be love.
On the day when a young writer corrects his first proof-sheet he is as proud as a schoolboy who has just got his first dose of pox.
Hashish will be, indeed, for the impressions and familiar thoughts of the man, a mirror which magnifies, yet no more than a mirror.
You can forgive a fool because he only runs in one direction and doesn't deceive anybody. It's the deceivers who make you feel bad.
I walk into the kitchen, look at the typer down there on the floor. It's a dirty floor. It's a dirty typer that types dirty stories
When the whistle blew and the call stretched thin across the night, one had to believe that any journey could be sweet to the soul.
Art is really about how you capture different things you see around you and bring them into forms and words and shapes and meaning.
To her whose heart is my heart's quiet home, To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome.
It's not by accident that the pristine wilderness of our planet disappears as the understanding of our own inner wild nature fades.
When you are alone and too tired even to turn on any of your devices, you let yourself linger in a past stacked among your pillows.
I had never heard of Rumi until Robert Bly handed me this book and he said, ah, “These poems need to be released from their cages.”
Give but a grain of the heart's rich seed, Confine some under cover, And when love goes, bid him God-speed. And find another lover.
I drew my bride, beneath the moon,Across my threshold; happy hour!But, ah, the walk that afternoonWe saw the water-flags in flower!
Great writers arrive among us like new diseases threatening, powerful, impatient for patients to pick up their virus, irresistible.