Poets Quotes

depth and substance.the two most exquisite qualities. be it in a poemor a person.

Again I resume the longlesson: how small a thingcan be pleasing, how littlein this hard world it takesto satisfy the mindand bring it to its rest.

A pear should come to the table popped with juice, Ripened in warmth and served in warmth. On termsLike these, autumn beguiles the fatalist.

a silent night. - the most eloquent poem i have ever read.

Criticism is like politics: if you don't make your own you are by default accepting the status quo and are finally yourself responsible for whatever the status quo does to you.

your smile.is the ultimategolden dream.all the poemsin the worldare waking up from.

no poet can know what his poem is going to be like until he has written it.

A poem is a meteor.

August is dust here. Droughtstuns the road, but juice gathers in the berries.

It is ferocious, life, but it must eat . . .

There’s no money in poetry, but there’s no poetry in money, either

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

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.

A true poet is one who can appreciate the disciplines and structures of any and all styles of poetry.

I recall that now and I recall everything for what do we have but the past to parent us?

the next time you hear someone in a workshop remarking on how good a particular free-verse line or passage sounds, scan it. The odds are that it will fall into a regular metrical pattern.

. . . poetry, like all imaginative creations, divines the human enterprise. This is poetry's social value.

poetrymelts my bones.enters my blood.and changesits composition.

Be a poet in action as well as in words.

We are all poets, really.

Writing poetry is supernatural. Or, it should be.

Behold yon rough and flinty roadWhere youth, now youth no more, Gropes whining, seeking crumbs of loavesHe cast away of yore.

I wanted to write the most beautiful poem but that is impossible the world has written its own.

If we were to understand how important it is to say something and say it well, maybe we wouldn’t write a single word, but that would be tragic.

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

You don’t know anything, but I know even less.

Traps!" he said. "Never in the world! Don't think it! Why, Gower is just a necessary olf bore. Nobody's supposed to know much about him--except instructors and their hapless students.

In this storyI am the poetYou're the poetry.

He did not waste time in a vain search for a place in history.

Poetry empowers the simplest of lives to confront the most extreme sorrows with courage, and motivates the mightiest of offices to humbly heed lessons in compassion.

We have conversations with each other most nights - Sylvia Plath and me!

I loved you for a thousand years and missed you in all of them.

As I read you I fell in love with the holes between your words and I loved you most on the days you could not love yourself.

Two forces create eternity – a fairy tale and a dream from the fairy tale.

You write poems with your fingertipsAnd I keep listening to the songs written on my skinBy some distant dream, similar wordsBut the verses never meet...

Cities get built out of poet's dreams.

The man who reproaches you is unfair

Poets, you always write about women worth dying for. Write, for a change, something about the ones worth living for!

The Universe said, ‘Let me show your soul something beautiful.

May our twilights mix togetherlike breath and breathlessness.

We write to go on living, after we have died.

If God could transcribe my heart, it'd still read "I love you".

Poetry is a storm asking peace to dance with her.

Watch, how the sunslowly risesfrom behind my earnew lines, new countriesspring up in my palmsmy rough hairbecome swaying silkand all the leavesin my bodybecome lusher than fruits.

They say that history is going on somewhere.They say it won't stop. I have heldOne picture still for a long time and waited.

What we call life is only talk of nature.

A poet has a sacred duty. He has to hear unsung songs and see unseen beauty.

From attraction and affectionCover of perfectionFailure beyond texture to a painful lessonEverything that was from the start wasn't from the heart

You are alone, So alone, You speak back to silence.People call it loneliness, You call it solitude, Different words, Meaning the same pain.

You ask me to write you a poem, I pen you an empty ocean, You run away.You ask me who I am, I paint you a breaking sky, You weep in the rain.