#poet

Poetry is only the highest eloquence of passion, the most vivid form of expression that can be given to our conception of anything, whether pleasurable or painful, mean or dignified, delightful or distressing. It is the perfect coincidence of the image and the words with the feeling we have, and of which we cannot get rid in any other way, that gives an instant "satisfaction to the thought." This is equally the origin of wit and fancy, of comedy and tragedy, of the sublime and pathetic. ↗

— William Hazlitt

#poetry #tragedy #writing #equality

In general, I would think that at present prose writers are much in advance of the poets. In the old days, I read more poetry than prose, but now it is in prose where you find things being put together well, where there is great ambition, and equal talent. Poets have gotten so careless, it is a disgrace. You can’t pick up a page. All the words slide off. ↗

— William H. Gass

#literary-criticism #living-writers #poetry #prose #equality

The displacement of water is equal to the something of something. ↗

— William Faulkner

#prose #the-sound-and-the-fury #william-faulkner #equality

Absolute equals nothingness. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#dejan-stojanovic #equals #literature #literature-quotes #nothingness

I am a student of life, and don't want to miss any experience. There's poetry in this sort of thing, you know--or perhaps you don't know, but it's all the same. ↗

— H.P. Lovecraft

#knowledge #life #poetry #experience

Poetry has an immediate effect on the mind. The simple act of reading poetry alters thought patterns and the shuttle of the breath. Poetry induces trance. Its words are chant. Its rhythms drumbeats. Its images become the icons of the inner eye. Poetry is more than a description of the sacred experience; it carries the experience itself. ↗

— Ivan M. Granger

#poetry #rhythm #trance #experience

Her happiness floated like waves of ocean along the coast of her life. She found lyrics of her life in his arms but she never sung her song. ↗

— Santosh Kalwar

#life #ocean #poetry #song #waves

The ANZACs, clinging lost and leaderless to the hillsides, began, as the hot afternoon gave way to grey drizzle, to experience their martyrdom. ↗

— John Keegan

#experience

God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to performs ↗

— William Cowper

#poetry #strength #faith

I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me. ↗