Best 130 of Robert Graves quotes - MyQuotes

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Robert Graves
By Anonym 19 Sep

Robert Graves

The Roman Road is the greatest monument ever raised to human liberty by a noble and generous people. It runs across mountain, marsh and river. It is built broad, straight and firm. It joins city with city and nation with nation. It is tens of thousands of miles long, and always thronged with grateful travellers. And while the Great Pyramid, a few hundred feet high and wide, awes sight-seers to silence—though it is only the rifled tomb of an ignoble corpse and a monument of oppression and misery, so that no doubt in viewing it you may still seem to hear the crack of the taskmaster's whip and the squeals and groans of the poor workmen struggling to set a huge block of stone into position——

By Anonym 16 Sep

Robert Graves

I am supposed to be an utter fool and the more I read the more of a fool they think me.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

Since the age of 15 poetry has been my ruling passion and I have never intentionally undertaken any task or formed any relationship that seemed inconsistent with poetic principles; which has sometimes won me the reputation of an eccentric.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

I believe that every English poet should read the English classics, master the rules of grammar before he attempts to bend or break them, travel abroad, experience the horrors of sordid passion, and - if he is lucky enough - know the love of an honest woman.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

Lovers to-day and for all time Preserve the meaning of my rhyme: Love is not kindly nor yet grim But does to you as you to him.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

A banker warned the British poet Robert Graves that one could not grow rich writing poetry. He replied that if there was no money in poetry, there was certainly no poetry in money, and so it was all even.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

Every fairy child may keep Two strong ponies and ten sheep; All have houses, each his own, Built of brick or granite stone; They live on cherries, they run wild I'd love to be a Fairy's child.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Robert Graves

Take your delight in momentariness, Walk between dark and dark - a shining space With the grave's narrowness, though not its peace. - Sick Love

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

To recommend a monarchy on account of the prosperity it gives the provinces seems to me like recommending that a man should have liberty to treat his children as slaves, if at the same time he treats his slaves with reasonable consideration.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

Poet, never chase the dream. Laugh yourself and turn away. Mask your hunger, let it seem Small matter if he come or stay; But when he nestles in your hand at last, Close up your fingers tight and hold him fast.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

When a dream is born in you With a sudden clamorous pain, When you know the dream is true And lovely, with no flaw nor stain, O then, be careful, or with sudden clutch You'll hurt the delicate thing you prize so much.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

The award of a pure gold medal for poetry would flatter the recipient unduly: no poem ever attains such carat purity.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

Where nature with accustomed round Sweeps and garnishes the ground With kindly beauty, warm or cold Alternate seasons never old: Heathen, how furiously you rage, Cursing this blood and brimstone age, How furiously against your will You kill and kill again, and kill: All thought of peace behind you cast, Till like small boys with fear aghast, Each cries for God to understand, 'I could not help it, it was my hand.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

Love is universal migraine, A bright stain on the vision Blotting out reason. Symptoms of true love Are leanness, jealousy, Laggard dawns; Are omens and nightmares - Listening for a knock, Waiting for a sign: For a touch of her fingers In a darkened room, For a searching look. Take courage, lover! Could you endure such pain At any hand but hers?

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

We forget cruelty and past betrayal, Heedless of where the next bright bolt may fall.

By Anonym 17 Sep

Robert Graves

Nor had I any illusions about Algernon Charles Swinburne, who often used to stop my perambulator when he met it on Nurses’ Walk, at the edge of Wimbledon Common, and pat me on the head and kiss me: he was an inveterate pram-stopper and patter and kisser.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

Any honest housewife would sort them out,/ Having a nose for fish, an eye for apples.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

But give thanks, at least, that you still have Frost's poems; and when you feel the need of solitude, retreat to the companionship of moon, water, hills and trees. Retreat, he reminds us, should not be confused with escape. And take these poems along for good luck!

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

Through the window I can see Rooks above the cherry-tree, Sparrows in the violet bed, Bramble-bush and bumble-bee, And old red bracken smoulders still Among boulders on the hill, Far too bright to seem quite dead. But old Death, who can't forget, Waits his time and watches yet, Waits and watches by the door.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

The difference between you and her (whom I to you did once prefer) Is clear enough to settle: She like a diamond shone, but you Shine like an early drop of dew Poised on a red rose petal. The dew-drop carries in its eye Mountain and forest, sea and sky, With every change of weather; Contrariwise, a diamond splits The prospect into idle bits That none can piece together.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

Poetry is no more a narcotic than a stimulant; it is a universal bittersweet mixture for all possible household emergencies and its action varies accordingly as it is taken in a wineglass or a tablespoon, inhaled, gargled or rubbed on the chest by hard fingers covered with rings.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

The function of poetry is religious invocation of the muse; its use is the experience of mixed exaltation and horror that her presence excites.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

If I were a young man With my bones full of marrow, Oh, if I were a bold young man Straight as an arrow, I'd store up no virtue For Heaven's distant plain, I'd live at ease as I did please And sin once again.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

The sap of Spring in the young wood a-stir Will celebrate with green the Mother, And every song-bird shout awhile for her; But we are gifted, even in November Rawest of seasons, with so huge a sense Of Her nakedly worn magnificence We forget cruelty and past betrayal, Heedless of where the next bright bolt may fall.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

Hardly one soldier in a hundred was inspired by religious feeling of even the crudest kind. It would have been difficult to remain religious in the trenches even if one had survived the irreligion of the training battalion at home.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

I made no more protests. What was the use of struggling against fate

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

Never use the word 'audience.' The very idea of a public, unless the poet is writing for money, seems wrong to me. Poets don't have an 'audience'. They're talking to a single person all the time.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Robert Graves

Since the age of fifteen poetry has been my ruling passion and I have never intentionally undertaken any task or performed any relationship that seemed inconsistent with poetic principles; which has sometimes won me the reputation of an eccentric.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

As was the custom in such cases, the pear tree was charged with murder and sentenced to be uprooted and burned.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

I was thinking, "So, I’m Emperor, am I? What nonsense! But at least I'll be able to make people read my books now.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

No honest theologian therefore can deny that his acceptance of Jesus as Christ logically binds every Christian to a belief in reincarnation - in Elias case (who was later John the Baptist) at least.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

But that so many scholars are barbarians does not much matter so long as a few of them are ready to help with their specialized knowledge the few independent thinkers, that is to say the poets, who try to to keep civilization alive.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

Love without hope, as when the young bird-catcher Swept off his tall hat to the Squire's own daughter, So let the imprisoned larks escape and fly Singing about her head, as she rode by.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

We once discussed which were the cleanest troops in the trenches, taken by nationalities. We agreed on a descending-order like this: English and German Protestants; Northern Irish, Welsh and Canadians; Irish and German Catholics; Scots; Mohammedan Indians; Algerians; Portugese; Belgians; French. We put the Belgians and French there for spite; they could not have been dirtier than the Algerians and the Portugese.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

The remarkable thing about Shakespeare is that he really is very good, in spite of all the people who say he is very good.

By Anonym 19 Sep

Robert Graves

There is no money in poetry, but then there is no poetry in money.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

Truth-loving Persians do not dwell upon The trivial skirmish fought near Marathon.

By Anonym 20 Sep

Robert Graves

You don't want captains in the army who know too much or think too much.

By Anonym 19 Sep

Robert Graves

To know only one thing well is to have a barbaric mind: civilization implies the graceful relation of all varieties of experience to a central human system of thought.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Robert Graves

Fact is not truth, but a poet who willfully defies fact cannot achieve truth.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

But godhead is, after all, a matter of fact, not a matter of opinion: if a man is generally worshipped as a god then he is a god. And if a god ceases to be worshipped he is nothing.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

There should be two main objectives in ordinary prose writing: to convey a message and to include in it nothing that will distract the reader's attention or check his habitual pace of reading - he should feel that he is seated at ease in a taxi, not riding a temperamental horse through traffic.

By Anonym 17 Sep

Robert Graves

Love and honor. They are the two great things, and now they’re dimmed and blighted. Today, love is just sex and sentimentality. Love is really a recognition of truth, a recognition of another person’s integrity and truth in a way that is compatible with — that makes both of you light up when you recognize the quality in the other. That’s what love is. It’s a recognition of singularity… And love is giving and giving and giving … not looking for any return. Until you do that, you can’t love.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Robert Graves

Poets can't march in protest or do that sort of thing. I feel that's against the rules, and pointless. If mankind wants a great big final bang, that's what it'll get. One should never protest against anything unless it's going to have an effect. None of those marches do. One should either be silent or go straight to the top.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Robert Graves

Because the world is in a sick condition and we are all somehow infected, against our will, even if we think we are whole in mind and soul and body.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

Abstract reason, formerly the servant of practical human reasons, has everywhere become its master, and denies poetry any excuse for existence. Though philosophers like to define poetry as irrational fancy, for us it is practical, humorous, reasonable way of being ourselves. Of never acquiescing in a fraud; of never accepting the secondary-rate in poetry, painting, music, love, friends. Of safeguarding our poetic institutions against the encroachments of mechanized, insensate, inhumane, abstract rationality.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Robert Graves

The conversation was like the sort one has in dreams—mad but interesting.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Robert Graves

Kaisers and Czars will strut the stage Once more with pomp and greed and rage; Courtly ministers will stop At home and fight to the last drop; By the million men will die In some new horrible agony.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Robert Graves

Since the age of fifteen poetry has been my ruling passion and I have never intentionally undertaken any task or formed any relationship that seemed inconsistent with poetic principles; which has sometimes won me the reputation of an eccentric.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Robert Graves

A perfect poem is impossible. Once it had been written, the world would end. Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.