Quotes About Poetry

Déjame entrar a tu íntimo alfabeto... Déjame entrar a tu íntimo alfabeto para saber lo tuyo por su nombre y a través de tus letras hablar de lo que permanece y también de auroras y de nieblas Déjame entrar para aprenderte y girar en tu órbita de voces hablándote de lo que me acontece describiéndote a ti Quiero dar testimonio a los hombres de tus enes y tus zetas desnudarte ante ellos como una niña para que todos se expresen con acento puro.

Love is the poetry of the senses!

Le bonheur est la poésie des femmes.

Înclinarea spre lene - desfrâul sufletelor poetice.

Plenty of things in life are superlatively uninteresting; so that it is one-half of art to select from realities those which contain the possibility of poetry

Happiness is the inner poetry of women, just as fine clothes are the mask of beauty

The faint hints of color in her complexion, her tawny blond hair, her extraordinary thinness, all spoke of that unearthly grace modern poets find in the medieval statues. Had she been happy, she'd have been ravishing: happiness constitutes pure poetry, for women.

Existen palabras que, semejantes a las trompetas, a los címbalos o al bombo de los titiriteros, atraen siempre al público. Las palabras belleza, gloria, poesía, poseen un sortilegio que seduce incluso a los espíritus más toscos.

Bixiou. "Don't you think all that is a little too florid? I should tone down the poetry. 'Imperial idol!' 'bent the knee!' damn it, my dear fellow, writing vaudevilles has ruined your style; you can't come down to pedestrial prose. I should say, 'He belonged to the small number of those who.' Simplify, simplify! the man himself was a simpleton.

One time I said that you were my soul. And that still goes. You're all the things that I see in a sunset when I'm driving in from the country, the things that I like but can't make poetry of.

The cloning of humans is on most of the lists of things to worry about from Science, along with behaviour control, genetic engineering, transplanted heads, computer poetry and the unrestrained growth of plastic flowers.

With most people, not describable as artists, all the finer part of their vitality goes into sex. They become third-rate poets during their courtship. All their instincts of drama come out freshly with their wives. The artist is he in whom this emotionality normally absorbed by sex is so strong that it claims a newer and more exclusive field of deployment. Its first creation is the Artist himself, a new sort of person; the creative man.

Here! is this you on the top of Fan-ko Mountain, Wearing a huge hat in the noon-day sun? How thin, how wretchedly thin, you have grown! You must have been suffering from poetry again.

Drunk we lie down in empty hills,heaven and earth our quilt and pillow.

She entered a state where prayer and poetry became one and the everyday world seemed full of holiness and significance.

pain, no surprise you're dead. You're old. That's what is meant to happen. We don't care that you forget you're old. We know you're old. Rose thinks of that poem she used to like and is pleased with herself when she can remember the first few lines. Do not go gentle into that good night. Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

No one ever expects poetry to sell.

A female feline named Katta Is getting fatta and fatta But she's pretty and purry And funny and furry So what does an ounce or two matta?

God, you poets are full of shit. You have no idea what half the words you worship mean.

Victor asks us to find the moments of heat in the writing we have done, has us circle and isolate those words, and with them we write a poem. We read them out loud. There's one about an ashtray, a sequined dress, flour on a kitchen floor. Victor says something about each one. The feeling in the room is beautiful, wide open.

He gripped the pages and told me they were all for me, about me, because of me. But when he was at the podium and I was in the first row, he never looked at me. When he read a poem about eating a peach on an overturned rowboat, the peach I'd brought, the rowboat where we'd sat together, he said it was for his mother, who loved peaches.

I can see no other reason for the existence of art and poetry and religion except as they tend to restore in us a freshness of vision and more emotional glamour and more vital sense of life.

creativity and imagination are as crucial to the life writing project as they are to fiction and poetry. We'll explore, and attempt, both autobiography and biography in Part 4, and in activities you'll be able to form your writing into poetry and/or prose.

The word stanza comes from the Italian for 'room': stanze (which is why I set that subject for the sonnet). Rooms are part of a larger structure, and this notion of the poem as house, as something habitable, is probably the most important lesson form teaches us.