Quotes About Poets

I think she must have lived where all the sad poets live, in that secret place where everything hurts all the time.

Love is a funny thing," he says, breaking the silence. "Sometimes, I'd like to be better with words, so that I could talk about it more. It seems so wrong to me that there is this condition that affects all of us, more than anything else in our lives ever will, and only the poets and song writers get to talk about it with any sort of authority.

A solidão e o sofrimento me fizeram sensível à voz dos poetas.

A alma dos poetas está cheia de objetos decrépitos. E é por isso que fazem poesia, para trazê-los de novo à vida. A poesia opera ressurreições.

A beleza nostálgica do sol que se põe é uma dádiva dos olhos de quem a vê como quem vê pela última vez. Os olhos dos poetas são sempre olhos que se despedem.

He was then in his fifty-fourth year, when even in the case of poets reason and passion begin to discuss a peace treaty and usually conclude it not very long afterwards.

I don't understand," said Fareed, "a world in which the most outspoken and high-profile blood drinkers are all romantics, poets, who bring into the Blood only those whom they love for emotional reasons. Oh, I do so appreciate your writing, you understand, every word of it. Your books are scripture for the Undead. Seth gave them to me at once, told me to learn them. But have you never thought to bring over those whom you actually need?

that we are the sum of all we've seen and all we've appreciated and understood. You were the sum of sunshine on marble floors filled with pictures of divine beings who laughed and loved and drank the fruit of the vine as surely as you were the sum of the poets and historians and philosophers you'd read.

A dreadful suspicion was coming over me. Hadn't my mortal life been nothing but abysmal struggle and trivia and fear? Wasn't that the way it was for most mortals? Wasn't that the message of a score of modern writers and poets - that we wasted our lives in foolish preoccupation? Wasn't this all a miserable cliche?

I opened my doors to any of the Undead who would wipe their boots before entering. It was like the old days in Venice, with Bianca's palazzo open to all ladies and gentlemen, indeed, to all artists, poets, dreamers and schemers who dared to present themselves, had come again.

The best memory I have about Titanic was that she was so large. So epic. I never felt any swaying or bobbing or turbulence to interfere with my meals, my sensitive appetite, or my slumber. I never felt any sort of vulnerability aboard that ocean liner, right up until the very end. I imagine that's a blessing, don't you? Whoever wants to know how it's all going to end before it actually does? Only poets and madmen, I would think.

I have committed many sins in my life. This precise sin-the sin against poets-is without absolution.

Oft morning-dreams presage approaching fate; And morning -dreams, as poets tell, are true, Led by pale ghosts, I enter Death's dark gate, And bid the realms of light and life adieu.

You puff the poets of other days, The living you deplore. Spare me the accolade: your praise Is not worth dying for.

The Beautiful Strangers ... Poets are cosmic ... James Kirkup

Souls of Poets dead and gone,What Elysium have ye known,Happy field or mossy cavern,Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?Have ye tippled drink more fineThan mine host's Canary wine?

Good critics, who have stamped out poets' hope, Good statesmen, who pulled ruin on the state, Good patriots, who for a theory risked a cause.

A cheerful genius suits the times, / And all true poets laugh unquenchably / Like Shakespeare and the gods.

When men of intense reality, as all great poets must be, give their hearts to be trodden on & tied up with ribbons in turn, by men of masks, there will be torture if here is not desecration.

Poets are too precious to sacrifice carelessly," he said, his long mouth downturned at the corners. "It had to be something other than Master Shakespeare himself.

Thy William went willing, Kit. Even though thou didst retrieve him-mad poets, the both of you-the debt is paid for seven times seven years.

Tom and Ben were silent, tall pillars on either side of the poets and the Prince.

Welcome, poets. Welcome, bards.

these poets here, you see, they are not of this world:let them live their strange life; let them be cold and hungry, let them run, love and sing: they are as rich as Jacques Coeur, all these silly children, for they have their souls full of rhymes, rhymes which laugh and cry, which make us laugh or cry: Let them live: God blesses all the merciful: and the world blesses the poets.