Poetry Quotes

Why do they [Americans] quarrel, why do they hate Negroes, Indians, even Germans, why do they not ha...

Think of the great poetry, the music and dance and ritual that spring forth from our aspiring to a l...

Publishing a volume of verse is like dropping a rose-petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the...

Publishing a book of poetry is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the ...

i have had my ups and downsbut wotthehell wotthehellyesterday sceptres and crownsfried oysters and v...

As Henry Moore carvedor modelled his sculpture every day,he strove to surpass Donatello4. and failed...

My parents were willing to let me follow my nose, do what I wanted to do, and they supported my inte...

Go then, O my inseperable, this once more,

For that you should read the original. In very great poetry the music often comes through even when ...

How can I find the words? Poets have taken them all and left me with nothing to say or do""Except to...

She had her image… and anything added to that would be mere verse-making. Something might come of it...

The TriflerDeath's the lover that I'd be taking;Wild and fickle and fierce is he.Small's his care if...

It costs me never a stab nor squirm / To tread by chance upon a worm. / Aha, my little dear, / I say...

A Very Short Song Once, when I was young and true, Someone left me sad- Broke my brittle heart in tw...

MenThey hail you as their morning starBecause you are the way you are.If you return the sentiment,Th...

Little WordsWhen you are gone, there is nor bloom nor leaf,Nor singing sea at night, nor silver bird...

My love runs by like a day in June, And he makes no friends of sorrows. He'll tread his galloping ri...

City of Vassillian a party of five sage princes with four horses. The princes, who are of course bra...

for every mile the feet gothe heart goes nine

A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is never the same once a good poem has been adde...

Poetry is not the most important thing in life... I'd much rather lie in a hot bath reading Agatha C...

[I'm]a freak user of words, not a poet.

A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is never the same once a good poem has been adde...

This poem has been called obscure. I refuse to believe that it is obscurer than pity, violence, or s...

And death shall have no dominion.Under the windings of the seaThey lying long shall not die windily;...

These poems, with all their crudities, doubts and confusions, are written for the love of man and in...

I sang in my chains like the sea

On No Work of WordsOn no work of words now for three lean months in the bloodyBelly of the rich year...

Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at close of day;Rage, rage agains...

Time held me green and dyingThough I sang in my chains like the sea.

Come on up, boys-I'm dead.

A poet dares to be just so clear and no clearer he approaches lucid ground warily like a mariner w...

A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove ...

Thus I, gone forth, as spiders do,In spider’s web a truth discerning,Attach one silken strand to you...

Humanity i love you because youare perpetually putting the secret oflife in your pants and forgettin...

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose text...

down with hell and heaven and all the religious fussinfinity pleased our parents one inch looks good...

sweet spring is yourtime is my time is ourtime for springtime is lovetimeand viva sweet love(all the...

Lovers alone wear sunlight.

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you like everybod...

Such was a poet and shall be and is-who'll solve the depths of horror to defend a sunbeam's architec...

twice I have lived forever in a smile

Unbeing dead isn't being alive.

i will wade out till my thighs are steeped in burning flowersI will take the sun in my mouthand leap...

i like my body when it is with yourbody. It is so quite new a thing.Muscles better and nerves more.i...

life's not a paragraphAnd death i think is no parenthesis

if everything happens that can't be done(and anything's righterthan bookscould plan)the stupidest te...

I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)I am never without it (anywhereI go you go,my dea...

How do you like your blue-eyed boy Mr Death?

You have played, (I think) And broke the toys you were fondest of, And are a little tired now; Tired...

may came home with a smooth round stoneas small as a world and as large as alone.

a politician is an arse uponwhich everyone has sat except a man

when man determined to destroy himself he picked the was of shall and finding only why smashed it in...

hate blows a bubble of despair intohugeness world system universe and bang-fear buries a tomorrow un...

may my heart always be open to littlebirds who are the secrets of livingwhatever they sing is better...

since the thing perhaps isto eat flowers and not to be afraid

something genuine like a mark in a toilet, graced with guts and gutted with grace

it's springand the goat-footedballoonMan whistlesfarandwee

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)

Poems have ideas. The ideas of poems come out of their emotions and their emotions are carried on im...

The Waves is an extraordinary achievement ... It is trembling on the edge. A little less - and it wo...

The novel is a formidable mass, and it is so amorphous - no mountain in it to climb, no Parnassus or...

We are not concerned with the very poor. They are unthinkable, and only to be approached by the stat...

It never bored them to hear words, words; they breathed them with the cool night air, never stopping...

He lived to near the things he loved to seem poetical.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars neve...

To elevate the soul, poetry is necessary.

I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty.

Blood was its Avatar and its seal.

To HelenI saw thee once-once only-years ago;I must not say how many-but not many.It was a july midni...

With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.

You call it hope — that fire of fire!It is but agony of desire.

With me poetry has not been a purpose but a passion.

It was many and many a year ago,In a kingdom by the sea,That a maiden there lived whom you may knowB...

Music, when combined with a pleasurable idea, is poetry; music, without the idea, is simply music; t...

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.

I Hear the sledges with the bells - Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! ...

Every poem should remind the reader that they are going to die.

By a route obscure and lonelyHaunted by ill angels only,Where an eidolon, named NIGHT,On a black thr...

The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.

A skillful literary artist has constructed a tale. If wise, he has not fashioned his thoughts to acc...

I have been happy, though in a dream.I have been happy-and I love the theme:Dreams! in their vivid c...

And here, in thought, to thee-In thought that can alone, Ascend thy empire and so be A partner of th...

From childhood's hour I have not beenAs others were; I have not seenAs others saw; I could not bring...

I have no words — alas! — to tellThe loveliness of loving well!

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume...

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just ...

Twas noontide of summer,And mid-time of night;And stars, in their orbits,Shone pale, thro' the light...

Take this kiss upon the brow!And, in parting from you now,Thus much let me avow-You are not wrong, w...

Take this kiss upon the brow!And, in parting from you now,Thus much let me avow-You are not wrong, w...

Ah, dream too bright to last! Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise But to be overcast! A voice from out...

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December And each separate dying ember wrought its gho...

I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of beauty.

As a poet and as a mathematician, he would reason well; as a mere mathematician, he could not have r...

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic...

I saw thee once - only once - years ago:I must not say how many - but not many.It was a July midnigh...

Rather a thousand times the county jail than to lie under this marble figure with wings and this gra...

My name used to be in the papers dailyAs having dined somewhere,Or traveled somewhere,Or rented a ho...

...But...to sing,to dream, to smile, to walk, to be alone, be free,with a voice that stirs and an ey...

Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely.