All Quotes By Tag: Poetry

“There came one and knocked at the door of the Beloved.And a voice answered and said, ‘Who is there?’The lover replied, ‘It is I.”Go hence,’ returned the voice;’there is no room within for thee and me.’Then came the lover a second time and knocked and again the voice demanded,’Who is there?’He answered, ‘It is thou.”Enter,’ said the voice, ‘for I am within.”

“The fountains mingle with the river,And the rivers with the ocean; The winds of heaven mix forever,With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single;All things by a law divine In one another’s being mingle:— Why not I with thine? See! the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another; No sister flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea:— What are all these kissings worth, If thou kiss not me?”

“Talent is a faucet. When it is on, one must write. Inspiration is a farce that poets have invented to give themselves importance.”

“Reading poetry is like undressing before a bath. You don’t undress out of fear that your clothes will become wet. You undress because you want the water to touch you. You want to completely immerse yourself in the feeling of the water and to emerge anew.”

“As Henry Moore carvedor modelled his sculpture every day,he strove to surpass Donatello4. and failed, but woke the next morningelated for another try.”

“The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peephole after peephole— A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.”

“She Dwelt Among the Untrodden WaysShe dwelt among the untrodden waysBeside the springs of Dove,A Maid whom there were none to praiseAnd very few to love:A violet by a mossy stoneHalf hidden from the eye!—Fair as a star, when only oneIs shining in the sky.She lived unknown, and few could knowWhen Lucy ceased to be;But she is in her grave, and, oh,The difference to me!”

“[Kieran]his head propped on a stack of poetry books he’d brought from the library. Almost all of them had been inscribed on the inside cover by a James Herondale, who had neatly written out his favorite lines.”

“Ye are better than all the balladsThat ever were sung or said;For ye are living poems,And all the rest are dead.”

“We somehow must become what we are not, sacrificing what we are, to inherit the masquerade of what we will be.”

“A door jumpsout from shadows,then jumps away. Thisis what I’ve come to find:the back door, unlatched.Tooled by insular wind, itslams and slamswithout meaningto and without meaning.”

“I do think the barsThat kept my spirit in are burst – that IAm sailing with thee through the dizzy sky!How beautiful thou art!”

“our foundation is rockybecause we made a home in each other’s skin.the damage is beginning to show.”

“This is joy’s bonfire, then, where love’s strong artsMake of so noble individual partsOne fire of four inflaming eyes, and of two loving hearts.”

“Poverty of young men alone behind thestairways, who practicealchemy inside bottle caps, who knowthe altruism of a last syringe.”