Best 429 quotes in «poets quotes» category

SELF BENEATH THE SURFACE, VEILED ON PURPOSE, ALL KNOWING AND GRAND, DIRECTED, GUIDED, BY THE ETERNAL HAND, SUSTAINED, FULFILLED, FULL OF LIGHT, REALIZATION ACHIEVED, BY WILLFUL MIGHT.

Shakespeare said that poets, lovers, and madmen enjoy absolute freedom.

Shadow of Your Spirit At night I see the shadow of your spirit Mixing with my blood and soul During the day I see your photos They tell me come to me Come to my world and romance Even I don’t know by myself How I fell into your love I cannot remove it from my heart Your love stabled my soul

She knew exactly how she ought to feel, for she was well read in our greater and lesser English poets, but the unfortunate fact was that she did not really like being kissed at all.

she wanted because art

Solitude itself your happiness,when a train of some promised words break like beads from the Heart's decked chain.

Some days I don't know what is greater. My wisdom, or my stupidity.

someday i will walk under the soul-blossom tree with my hand eternally woven in yours.

Some people stay in our heart forever!

Some of the most passionately erotic poets have been the most self-contained in their daily lives.

Some poets travel to distant lands and bring back exotic sights and smells. But others go to witness turmoil or violence, to be at the center of political or social change and to bring back the news — not as journalists do, but shaped through language and image in ways that awaken our sensibilities and our emotions ["Yahya Frederickson in Yemen: The Gold of the Wayfarer," The Millions, December 5, 2014].

some words bring warmth just by being next to each other.

Sometimes, you are moved by everything that happens around you. A song moves you so much. Its lyrics make you tear, its melodies take you to another world. You read a poem and you wish you were the one who wrote it. They say you spend your whole life rewriting the poem you loved once. You know that’s true. Because you know how poets feel. You know how they think. You know who they are.

Some writers write to forget. Some forget to write.

Sun is a hearthstone, a merry-go-round of extinguished hearthstones.

Stars are only the rain of the Absolute.

Sunbathe from within.

That is why they have poets—to classify all the degrees of love. It is for scientists to classify the maladies arising from the want of it.

That is what all poets do: they talk to themselves out loud; and the world overhears them

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

That society must to listen,the real truth;for that,nature has her sequel shifts,thus she makes her sensible experiments around the earth—with her enduring laws to obey while she moves.

… the fisherman’s daughter grinding serenity in her coffee grinder.

The bats inebriate the sky . . .

The birds are in their trees, the toast is in the toaster, and the poets are at their windows. [...] The proofreaders are playing the ping-pong game of proofreading, glancing back and forth from page to page, the chefs are dicing celery and potatoes, and the poets are at their windows because it is their job for which they are paid nothing every Friday afternoon.

The Chinese poet George Wu ... recorded on his comlog: "Poets are the mad midwives to reality. They see not what is, nor what can be, but what must become." Later, on his last disk to his lover the week before he died, Wu said: "Words are the only bullets in truth's bandolier. And poets are the snipers.

The aching in my chest isn't because I miss you, it's realizing that you have become someone I no longer know, your fears, your 4 am thoughts, your achievements, are things I no longer have an equivalent to. Who we were and who we are are four different people, and the me from now doesn't relate to the me from then, let alone to the you from now. -Tanzy Sayadi and Jarod Kintz

The arts that have escaped [uniformity] best are the arts in which the public take no interest. Poetry is an instance of what I mean. We have been able to have fine poetry in England because the public do not read it, and consequently do not influence it.

The Child Christ lives on from generation to generation in the poets, very often the frailest of men but men whose frailty is redeemed by a child's unworldliness, by a child's delight in loveliness, by the spirit of wonder. Christ was a poet, and all through His life the Child remains perfect in Him. It was the poet, the unworldly poet, who was King of the invisible kingdom; the priests and rulers could not understand that. The poets understand it, and they, too, are kings of the invisible kingdom, vassal kings of the Lord of Love, and their crowns are crowns of thorns indeed.

The cynic sees a void, the poet sees everything that fills it.

The deeper thought is, the taller it becomes.

The game itself is bigger than the winning.

the gods are created by poets" --Ovid

the intensity in your eyes burns my pen as i write.

The inner seas a sulky mind's being, a string of melancholy thoughts swing on its feeble waves:ebbing, ebbing, self ebbing, as how a poet learns himself to wan, until its new bending ,departs to kiss the mirrored shores.

The older poets were Ethelbert Miller, Kenneth Carroll, Brian Gilmore. It is important that I tell you their names, that you know that I have never achieved anything alone.

The light teaches you to convert life into a festive promenade.

Them lady poets must not marry, pal . . . It is a true error to marry with poets / or to be by them.

The most sublime labour of poetry is to give sense and passion to insensate things; and it is characteristic of children to take inanimate things in their hands and talk to them in play as if they were living persons... This philological-philosophical axiom proves to us that in the world's childhood men were by nature sublime poets...

Then you are a poet?' she asked, fingering the flyer in her pocket. 'No not at all,' he waved his hand. 'I am merely a character in a poem.

The life we’re given is on a thread, so wear it well.

The Poet reveals what is hidden, and what is often hidden is himself

The pen, a double-edged mystery: cuts the writer, heals the reader.

The poet is happiest with the simplest of things: sourdough toast and apricot jam, an etymology dictionary, and a biography of Josef Stalin (also a poet, in his younger pre-purge days). He is interested and amused by just about anything lying around: last month’s light bill (especially the four-color chart explaining hot water usage), the Thai menu (with typos) at lunch, an old airplane boarding pass. His ADD serves him well. The poet is an introvert, but not really. He reaches out to every parcel of the planet, because everything is subject to him (he delights in this double meaning).

The poet: just another sleepwalker dreaming he's awake.

The poet is much more the one who inspires,than the one who is inspired.

The Poet leaves a fingerprint of his true self in every poem.

The poets and writers are born stylists!

The poets carry feelings, delivering desires and dispatching dreams. Even if sometimes they need pack some sorrows, distill several disappointments and filter strange nightmares.

The poet walks the earth in relative obscurity. You might see him surface briefly at an open microphone event or at a workshop, but for the most part he stays in his burrow. His bosses love him. He writes elegant copy and sticks to his knitting. You hardly know he’s there in his cubicle.

[The poet] is no arguer . . . he is judgment. He judges not as the judge judges but as the sun falling around a helpless thing.