#poet

Her pleasure in the walk must arise from the exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the year upon the tawny leaves and withered hedges, and from repeating to herself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn--that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness--that season which has drawn from every poet worthy of being read some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling. ↗

— Jane Austen

#fall #nature #pleasure #poets #seasons

To Solitude O solitude! if I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep,— Nature's observatory—whence the dell, Its flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell, May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep 'Mongst boughs pavillion'd, where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell. But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee, Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind, Whose words are images of thoughts refin'd, Is my soul's pleasure; and it sure must be Almost the highest bliss of human-kind, When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee. ↗

— John Keats

#poetry #solitude #nature

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling. To be natural is to be obvious, and to be obvious is to be inartistic. ↗

— Oscar Wilde

#poetry #nature

The eye— it cannot choose but see; we cannot bid the ear be still; our bodies feel, where'er they be, against or with our will. ↗

— William Wordsworth

#nature #poetry #nature

I had been hungry all the years- My noon had come, to dine- I, trembling, drew the table near And touched the curious wine. 'Twas this on tables I had seen When turning, hungry, lone, I looked in windows, for the wealth I could not hope to own. I did not know the ample bread, 'Twas so unlike the crumb The birds and I had often shared In Nature's diningroom. The plenty hurt me, 'twas so new,-- Myself felt ill and odd, As berry of a mountain bush Transplanted to the road. Nor was I hungry; so I found That hunger was a way Of persons outside windows, The entering takes away. ↗

— Emily Dickinson

#nature

I will love you forever" swears the poet. I find this easy to swear too. "I will love you at 4:15 pm next Tuesday" - Is that still as easy? ↗

— W.H. Auden

#poetry #love

This fire that we call Loving is too strong for human minds. But just right for human souls. ↗

— Aberjhani

#famous-authors #famous-quotes #human-nature #love #philosophy-of-love

En qué lugar, en dónde, a qué deshoras me dirás que te amo? Esto es urgente porque la eternidad se nos acaba. ↗

— Jaime Sabines

#love

Father, R.I.P., Sums Me Up at Twenty-Three She has no head for politics, craves good jewelry, trusts too readily, marries too early. Then one by one she sends away her friends and stands apart, smug sapphire, her answer to everything a slender zero, a silent shrug--and every day still hears me say she'll never be pretty. Instead she reads novels, instead her belt matches her shoes. She is master of the condolence letter, and knows how to please a man with her mouth: Good. Nose too large, eyes too closely set, hair not glorious blonde, not her mother's red, nor the glossy black her younger sister has, the little raven I loved best. ↗

— Deborah Garrison

#love

soles occidere et redire possunt: nobis cum semel occidit breuis lux, nox est perpetua una dormienda. ↗

— Catullus

#roman #love