All Quotes By Tag: Poetry

“Prose: words in their best order; poetry: the best words in the best order.”

“From quiet homes and first beginning,Out to the undiscovered ends,There’s nothing worth the wear of winning,But laughter and the love of friends.”

“Let Him easter in us, be a dayspring to the dimness of us, be a crimson-cresseted east.”

“Sweet is the lore which nature brings;Our meddling intellectMisshapes the beauteous forms of things;—We murder to dissect.”

“Still, what I want in my lifeis to be willingto be dazzled—to cast aside the weight of factsand maybe evento float a littleabove this difficult world.I want to believe I am lookinginto the white fire of a great mystery.I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing—that the light is everything—that it is more than the sumof each flawed blossom rising and falling. And I do.”

“No poet ever wrote a poem to dishonor life, to compromise high ideals, to scorn religious views, to demean hope or gratitude, to argue against tenderness, to place rancor before love, or to praise littleness of soul. Not one. Not ever.”

“Maybe you’re one of those people who writes poems, but rarely reads them. Let me put this as delicately as I can: If you don’t read, your writing is going to suck.”

“There is a war inside you begging for peace. I pray you find your strength.”

“Science ask facts and religion ask faith, humans are confused between life and death.”

“When she left me I stood out in the thunderstorm, hoping to be destroyed by lightning. It missed, first left, then right.”

“I offer you what I have myPoverty”

“I hate the day, because it lendeth lightTo see all things, but not my love to see.”

“Reclaiming the sacred in our lives naturally brings us close once more to the wellsprings of poetry.”

“I don’t love her anymoreSoWhy should I walkNightsBy the tavernWhere I drankEvery nightThinking of her?”

“I wrote poetry from the time I could write. That was the only way I could begin to express who I was but the poems didn’t make sense to my teachers. They didn’t rhyme. They were about the wind sounds, the planets’ motions, never about who I was or how I felt. I didn’t think I felt anything. I was this mind more than a body or a heart. My mind photographing the stars, hearing the wind.”