Quotes About Poetry

I'm getting rather hoarse, I fear, After so much reciting: So, if you don't object, my dear, We'll try a glass of bitter beer - I think it looks inviting.

We all fear loneliness, madness, dying. Shakespeare and Walt Whitman, Leopardi and Hart Crane will not cure those fears. And yet these poets bring us fire and light.

The things we fear about poetry are the things that are good about poetry.

We need a renaissance of wonder. We need to renew, in our hearts and in our souls, the deathless dream, the eternal poetry, the perennial sense that life is miracle and magic.

Life is a B Movie: it's stupid and it's strange, it's a directionless story, the dialogue is lame, but in the 'he said she said' sometimes there's some poetry, if you turn your back long enough and let it happen naturally.

He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realise.

If creating life is art, then living and dying must be poetry.

Everyone wants a perfect ending. But over the years Ive learned that some of the best poems dont rhyme, and many great stories dont have a clear beginning, middle, or end. Life is about not knowing, embracing change, and taking a moment and making the best of it without knowing whats going to happen next.

Parecia-me que a natureza, menos livre que os velhos poetas, devia servir-se quase que exclusivamente dos elementos comuns à família e não podia atribuir-lhe tal poder de inovação que fizesse, com materiais análogos aos que compunham um tolo e um bruto, um grande espírito sem a menor tara de tolice, uma santa sem a menor mácula de brutalidade.

Pero, sobre todo, de igual suerte que los escritores llegan a menudo a un poder de concentración de que les hubiera dispensado el régimen de libertad política o de anarquía literaria, cuando están atados de pies y manos por la tiranía de un monarca o de una poética, por los rigores de las reglas prosódicas o de una religión de Estado, así Francisca, como no podía replicarnos de una manera explícita, hablaba como Tiresias y hubiera escrito como Tácito.

as great poets do when the tyranny of rhyme forces them into the discovery of their finest lines.

What is utterly detestable is the Victor Hugo of the last stage, the Légende des Siècles, I forget all their names. But in the Feuilles d'Automne, the Chants du Crépuscule, there's a great deal that's the work of a poet, a true poet! Even in the Contemplations,

Que Neruda me perdone, pero a veces sucede que me canso de ser mujer.

Las rosas son rojas, La violetas azul turquesa, Ven pronto a casa, Lo conseguiremos, princesa.

I bless the gods for not letting my education in rhetoric, poetry, and other literary studies come easily to me, and thereby sparing me from an absorbing interest in these subjects.

I think it was T.S. Eliot who talked about good poetry being felt before it's understood. I believe that. There are some bands where I love their lyrics but I don't have a clue what they're on about.

When I was sixteen, it was simple. Poetry existed; therefore it could be written; and nobody had told me -- yet -- the many, many reasons why it could not be written by me.

A lot of poets published their own work then; unlike novels, poetry was short, and therefore cheap to do. We had to print each poem separately, and then disassemble it, as there were not enough a's for the whole book; the cover was done with a lino-block. We printed 250 copies, and sold them through bookstores, for 50 cents each. They now go in the rare book trade for eighteen hundred dollars a pop. Wish I'd kept some.

Like all twenty-one-year-old poets, I thought I would be dead by thirty, and Sylvia Plath had not set a helpful example. For a while there, you were made to feel that, if a poet and female, you could not really be serious about it unless you'd made a least one suicide attempt. So I felt I was running out of time.

We are, always, poets, exploring possibilities of meaning in a world which is also all the time exploring possibilities.

The Incarnation of Christ raised the energy of everything. And when Hopkins placed his conviction of this into poetry, he tended to mention electricity, lightening, fire, flash, flame. He wrote in his late, great poem, "That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and the comfort of the Resurrection": 'In a flash, at a trumpet crash, / I am all at once what Christ is, / since he was what I am and / This jack, joke, poor potsherd, / patch matchwood, immortal diamond, / Is immortal diamond.

The poetry of a people comes from the deep recesses of the unconscious, the irrational and the collective body of our ancestral memories.

The poetry of a people comes from the deep recesses of the unconscious, the irrational and the collective body of our ancestral memories. ------ The Word of fire burns today On the lips of our prophets in an evil age.

Some people are born with words flowing in their veins.