Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
I read a lot when I was in school in the United States, and even though writing in English is very difficult for me, I wrote in journals.
Tears are a river that takes you somewhere…Tears lift your boat off the rocks, off dry ground, carrying it downriver to someplace better.
Solitude is not an absence of energy or action, as some believe, but is rather a boon of wild provisions transmitted to us from the soul.
Our own sorrows seem heavy enough, even when lifted by certain long-term joys. But watching others hurt is the breaker of most any heart.
The heaven that rolls around cries aloud to you while it displays its eternal beauties, and yet your eyes are fixed upon the earth alone.
The decent docent doesn't doze; He teaches standing on his toes. His students dassn't doze and does, And that's what teaching is and was.
Fashions are not fashions at all but refashioning; language is not communication but reinvention. They are never in place but on display.
When I finished my initial year at Oxford, I flew home to marry Kirby, who had been my girlfriend in college. We had met on a blind date.
There is so much about the process of writing that is mysterious to me, but this one thing I've found to be true: writing begets writing.
It costs me never a stab nor squirm / To tread by chance upon a worm. / Aha, my little dear, / I say, Your clan will pay me back one day.
i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
what if a much of a which of a wind gives the truth to summer's lie; bloodies with dizzying leaves the sun and yanks immortal stars awry?
anyone lived in a pretty how town (with up so floating many bells down) spring summer autumn winter he sang his didn't he danced his did.
My self-confidence comes from the fact that I have discovered my own dimensions. It does not behoove me to make myself smaller than I am.
Lo, as I gaze, the statured man, Built up from you large hand appears: A type that nature wills to plan But once in all a people's years.
For whatsoever from one place doth fall, Is with the tide unto an other brought: For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
And when you are entering into poetry, whatever stage you're at, you are participating in something with a very long and noble tradition.
An aged Christian, with the snow of time upon his head, may remind us that those points of earth are whitest which are nearest to heaven.
The individual and the race are always moving, and as we drift into new latitudes new lights open in the heaven more immediately over us.
I like to look at the interface between words and pictures and wonder about which comes first, a sort of chicken-or-egg type of question.
I shall lie folded like a saint, Lapped in a scented linen sheet, On a bedstead striped with bright-blue paint, Narrow and cold and neat.
Fit for kings, formal gardens afford an earthly Elysium and the odd impression that we mere men might actually control nature for a time.
The act of bell ringing is symbolic of all proselytizing religions. It implies the pointless interference with the quiet of other people.
All that I've lived I've forgotten, as if I'd vaguely heard it. All that I'll be reminds me of nothing, as if I'd lived and forgotten it.
He whom nature thus bereaves, Is ever fancy's favourite child; For thee enchanted dreams she weaves Of changeful beauty, bright and wild.
I'm interested in someone who's mired in grief: how do you get back to that thing that makes them warm? Because you know that's in there.
Man-like is it to fall into sin, Fiend-like is it to dwell therein; Christ-like is it for sin to grieve, God-like is it all sin to leave.
I never find words right away. Poems for me always begin with images and rhythms, shapes, feelings, forms, dances in the back of my mind.
The world is full of women, and the women full of wile; so that a man, if he goeth not warily withal, shall surely fall a prey thereunto.
As estimated, you died. Things marched, sufficient, to that end. Just so much Zyklon and leather, patented terror, so many routine cries.
For Christ plays in ten thousand places,/ Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his/ To the Father through the features of men’s faces.
Cubism is the art of depicting new wholes with formal elements borrowed not only from the reality of vision, but from that of conception.
Don't let anyone call you a minority if you're black or Hispanic or belong to some other ethnic group. You're not less than anybody else.
The new year has begun for us. / Now must God grant us with love / That we may be able so to begin it / That it may be of value for Love.
All I really want is enough to live on, a little house in the country... and a tree in the garden with seven of my enemies hanging in it.
When'er into thine eyes I see, All pain and sorrow fly from me. [Ger., Wenn ich in deine Augen sch' So schwindet all' mein Leid und Weh.]
Poetry has been to me something more than amusement, it has been a cheering companion when I had no other to fly to, a delightful solace.
Out in the lonely woods the jasmine burns Its fragrant lamps, and turns Into a royal court with green festoons The banks of dark lagoons.
If we could read the secret history of our enemies we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.
Time has laid his hand Upon my heart, gently, not smiting it, But as a harper lays his open palm Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations.
Trouble is the next best thing to enjoyment; there is no fate in the world so horrible as to have no share in either its joys or sorrows.
Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe!
The principle of equity first came into evidence in Roman jurisprudence and was derived by analogy from the physical meaning of the word.
Everyone gives what he has. The soldier gives strength, the merchant goods, the teacher instruction, the farmer rice, the fisherman fish.
Wise were the kings who never chose a friend till with full cups they had unmasked his soul, and seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts.
The body oppressed by excesses bears down the mind, and depresses to the earth any portion of the divine spirit we had been endowed with.
Who guides below, and rules above, The great disposer, and the mighty king; Than He none greater, next Him none, That can be, is, or was.
A shoe that is too large is apt to trip one, and when too small, to pinch the feet. So it is with those whose fortune does not suit them.
Our years Glide silently away. No tears, No loving orisons repair The wrinkled cheek, the whitening hair That drop forgotten to the tomb.
In the world of poetry there are would-be poets, workshop poets, promising poets, lovesick poets, university poets, and a few real poets.