Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Alas! how little can a moment show Of an eye where feeling plays In ten thousand dewy rays: A face o'er which a thousand shadows go!
A poem generated by its own laws may be unrealized and bad in terms of so-called objective principles of taste, judgement, deduction.
Since we're not young, weeks have to do time for years of missing each other.Yet only this odd warp in time tells me we're not young.
And let me die suddenly, to be born again in the revelation of beauty....And the revelation of beauty is the wisdom of the ancestors.
Get your enemy to read your works in order to mend them, for your friend is so much your second self that he will judge too like you.
A thought may be very commendable as a thought, but I value it chiefly as a window through which I can obtain insight on the thinker.
My virgin sense of sound was steeped In the music of young streams; And roses through the casement peeped, And scented all my dreams.
In vain would science scan and trace Firmly her aspect. All the while, There gleams upon her far-off face A vague unfathomable smile.
Doth Nature draw me, 'tis because, Unto my seeming, there doth lurk A lawlessness about her laws, More mood than purpose in her work.
Some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs.
There twice a day the Severn fills; The salt sea-water passes by, And hushes half the babbling Wye, And makes a silence in the hills.
A little soul scarce fledged for earth Takes wing with heaven again for goal, Even while we hailed as fresh from birth A little soul.
The fact to which we have got to cling, as to a lifebelt, is that it is possible to be a normal decent person and yet be fully alive.
Dramatic experience is not logical; it may be subdued to the kind of coherence that we indicate when we speak, in criticism, of form.
So fades a summer cloud away; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er; So gently shuts the eye of day; So dies a wave along the shore.
I try to take care and be gentle to them. Words and eggs must be handled with care. Once broken they are impossible things to repair.
I'm an empress. I wear an apron. My typewriter writes. It didn't break the way it warned. Even crazy, I'm as nice as a chocolate bar.
My life has appeared unclothed in court, detail by detail, death-bone witness by death-bone witness, and I was shamed at the verdict.
Have you ever heard of a pianist who never had to practice - or of an architect who didn't bother to find out why buildings stand up?
Take the joy and bear the sorrow, looking past your hopes and fears: learn to recognize the measured dance that orders all our years.
Truth is a golden thread, seen here and there In small bright specks upon the visible side Of our strange being's party-coloured web.
There is a great Field-Marshal, my friend, who arrays our battalions; Let us to Providence trust, and abide and work in our stations.
What we ask of him is, that he should find out for us more than we can find out for ourselves... He must have the passion of a lover.
A just society will appear less spectacular, and less clearly defined, than a society with totalitarian leadership, theocratic goals.
Prose exists to convey meaning, and no meaning such as prose conveys can be expressed as well in poetry. That's not poetry's purpose.
We have fallen into this very mean description of humanity. Naturalism in fiction is too reductive in its definition of human beings.
General, your tank is a powerful vehicle it smashes down forests and crushes a hundred men. but it has one defect: it needs a driver.
The ultimate credo of capitalism is to exploit people. It's not like this is just an incidental problem; it's inherent in the system.
I used to be very revolutionary, but now I think that nothing can be gained by brute force. People must be drawn to good by goodness.
If it's so painful to love and absorb electricity, how much more painful it is to be a woman, to be the electricity, to inspire love.
Critics are like eunuchs in a harem; they know how it's done, they've seen it done every day, but they're unable to do it themselves.
A single star is rising in the east, and from afar sheds a most tremulous lustre; silent Night doth wear it like a jewel on her brow.
Environmental concerns and feminism are locked together. Generally, women have closer connections to the organic nature of our lives.
My mother, religious-negro, proud of Having waded through a storm, is, very obviously, A sturdy Black bridge that I Crossed over, on.
The more a man cultivates the arts the less he fornicates. A more and more apparent cleavage occurs between the spirit and the brute.
I think that the world should be full of cats and full of rain, that's all, just cats and rain, rain and cats, very nice, good night.
nobody can save you but yourself and you’re worth saving. it’s a war not easily won but if anything is worth winning then this is it.
Those faces you see every day on the streets were not created entirely without hope: be kind to them: like you they have not escaped.
Each person is only given so many evenings and each wasted evening is a gross violation against the natural course of your only life.
I will remember the kisses, our lips raw with love, and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me.
Silene, who declines The garish noontide's blazing light; But when the evening crescent shines, Gives all her sweetness to the night.
To be ourselves causes us to be exiled by many others, and yet to comply with what others want causes us to be exiled from ourselves.
All that you are seeking is also seeking you. If you lie still, sit still, it will find you. It has been waiting for you a long time.
Not for myself I make this prayer, But for this race of mine That stretches forth from shadowed places Dark hands for bread and wine.
Great writers arrive among us like new diseases - threatening, powerful, impatient for patients to pick up their virus, irresistible.
Now you know how much my love for you burns deep in me when I forget about our emptiness, and deal with shadows as with solid things.
Thou shall know by experience how salt the savor is of others' bread, and how sad a path it is to climb and descend another's stairs.
An art machine is a system whose parts when put in motion act upon each other in such a way as to cause you to see things differently
I was trying to find out what it was that everybody else understood without giving up my stubborn and hard-won lack of understanding.
When logics die, The secret of the soil grows through the eye, And blood jumps in the sun; Above the waste allotments the dawn halts.