All Quotes By Tag: Poetry

“I took her to bed with silk and song’Lay still, my love, I won’t be long,I must prepare my body for passion.”O, your body you give, but all else you ration…”

“The Scholars”Bald heads forgetful of their sins,Old, learned, respectable bald headsEdit and annotate the linesThat young men, tossing on their beds,Rhymed out in love’s despairTo flatter beauty’s ignorant ear.They’ll cough in the ink to the world’s end;Wear out the carpet with their shoesEarning respect; have no strange friend;If they have sinned nobody knows.Lord, what would they sayShould their Catullus walk that way?”

“In a pine tree,A few yards away from my window sill,A brilliant blue jay is springing up and down, up and down,On a branch.I laugh, as I see him abandon himselfTo entire delight, for he knows as well as I doThat the branch will not break.”

“My Love Is Like To Ice, And I To FireMy love is like to ice, and I to fire;How comes it then that this her cold so greatIs not dissolv’d through my so hot desire,But harder grows the more I her entreat?Or how comes it that my exceeding heatIs not delay’d by her heart-frozen cold;But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,And feel my flames augmented manifold!What more miraculous thing may be told,That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice;And ice, which is congeal’d with senseless cold,Should kindle fire by wonderful device!Such is the power of love in gentle mind,That it can alter all the course of kind.”

“Your politics are so far right,They’re wrong.”

“Surprised by joy- impatient as the WindI turned to share the transport– Oh! with whomBut thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,That spot which no vicissitude can find?Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind–But how could I forget thee? Through what power,Even for the least division of an hour,Have I been so beguiled as to be blindTo my most grievous loss? — That thought’s returnWas the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,Knowing my heart’s best treasure was no more;That neither present time, nor years unbornCould to my sight that heavenly face restore.”

“Results and RosesThe man who wants a garden fair,or small or very big,With flowers growing here and there,Must bend his back and dig.The things are mighty few on earthThat wishes can attain.Whate’er we want of any worthWe’ve got to work to gain.It matters not what goal you seek,It’s secret here reposes:You’ve got to dig from week to weekTo get Results or Roses.”

“Not in the clamor of the crowded street,Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng,But in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.”

“Language has not the power to speak what love inditesThe soul lies buried in the Ink that writes”

“I dreamed that you bewitched me into bedAnd sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.(I think I made you up inside my head.)”

“Once in a while i am struckall over again… by just how blue the sky appears .. on wind-played autumn mornings, blue enoughto bruise a heart.”

“I think here I will leave you. It has come to seemthere is no perfect ending.Indeed, there are infinite endings.Or perhaps, once one begins,there are only endings.”

“At the edge of madness you howl diamonds and pearls.”

“I don’t need your praiseto survive. I was here first, before you were here, beforeyou ever planted a garden.And I’ll be here when only the sun and moonare left, and the sea, and the wide field.I will constitute the field.”

“Xs and OsLove is a gameof tic-tac-toe,constantly waiting,for the next x or o.”