#poetry

… and the most beautiful words ever spoken, I have not yet said to you. ↗

— Nâzım Hikmet

#writing #beauty

Nobody the dead man & Nobody the living Nobody is giving in & Nobody is giving Nobody hears me but just Nobody cares Nobody fears me but Nobody just stares Nobody belongs to me & Nobody remains No Nobody knows nothing All that remains are remains ↗

— Kami Garcia

#poetry #beauty

their heart grew cold they let their wings down ↗

— Sappho

#defeat #giving-in #giving-up #imagery #poetry

This is the kind of Friend You are- Without making me realize my soul's anguished history, You slip into my house at night, And while I am sleeping, You silently carry off all my suffering and sordid past in Your beautiful Hands. ↗

— Hafiz of Shiraz

#beauty

Outside the youth center, between the liquor store and the police station, a little dogwood tree is losing its mind; overflowing with blossomfoam, like a sudsy mug of beer; like a bride ripping off her clothes, dropping snow white petals to the ground in clouds, so Nature’s wastefulness seems quietly obscene. It’s been doing that all week: making beauty, and throwing it away, and making more. ↗

— Tony Hoagland

#beauty

Catch from the board of beauty/ Such careless crumbs as fall. ↗

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

#poetry #beauty

While gazing at myself from yourself, I was beautiful. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#beauty #dejan-stojanovic #gazing #literature #literature-quotes

]Sardis often turning her thoughts here ] you like a goddess and in your song most of all she rejoiced. But now she is conspicuous among Lydian women as sometimes at sunset the rosyfingered moon surpasses all the stars. And her light stretches over salt sea equally and flowerdeep fields. And the beautiful dew is poured out and roses bloom and frail chervil and flowering sweetclover. But she goes back and forth remembering gentle Atthis and in longing she bites her tender mind ↗

— Sappho

#imagery #poetry #beauty

A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it. A poet utterly clear is a trifle glaring. ↗

— E.B. White

#poet #poetry #beauty

]sing to us the one with violets in her lap ]mostly ]goes astray ↗

— Sappho

#imagery #poetry #beauty