You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
read more
Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
By winding myrtle round your ruin'd shed?
The poet is in the end probably more afraid of the dogmatist who wants to extract the message from the read more
The poet is in the end probably more afraid of the dogmatist who wants to extract the message from the poem and throw the poem away than he is of the sentimentalist who says, "Oh, just let me enjoy the poem.".
Of trees I (Krishna) am the fig.
Of trees I (Krishna) am the fig.
It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things.
It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things.
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
A poem is true if it hangs together. Information points to something else. A poem points to nothing but itself.
A poem is true if it hangs together. Information points to something else. A poem points to nothing but itself.
I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I read more
I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out.
Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.
Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.
For there is no heroic poem in the world but is at bottom a
biography, the life of a read more
For there is no heroic poem in the world but is at bottom a
biography, the life of a man; also, it may be said, there is no
life of a man, faithfully recorded, but is a heroic poem of its
sort, rhymed or unrhymed.