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#poetry

Read through the most famous quotes by topic #poetry




But I can only write what the muse allows me to write. I cannot choose, I can only do what I am given, and I feel pleased when I feel close to concrete poetry - still. ↗


— Ian Hamilton Finlay


#am #cannot #choose #close #concrete

Well, probably I was fed up with concrete poetry. There was a lot of bad concrete poetry and besides, it was confused with visual poetry which was completely different. ↗


— Ian Hamilton Finlay


#besides #completely #concrete #confused #different

And the second question, can poetry be taught? I didn't think so. ↗


— Norman MacCaig


#poetry #question #second #taught #think

At the round earth's imagined corners blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go ; All whom the flood did, and fire shall o'erthrow, All whom war, dea[r]th, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance hath slain, and you, whose eyes Shall behold God, and never taste death's woe. But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space ; For, if above all these my sins abound, 'Tis late to ask abundance of Thy grace, When we are there. Here on this lowly ground, Teach me how to repent, for that's as good As if Thou hadst seal'd my pardon with Thy blood. ↗


— John Donne


#poetry #religion #age

We all write poems; it is simply that poets are the ones who write in words. ↗


— John Fowles


#ones #poems #poets #simply #who

Requiescat Tread lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow. All her bright golden hair Tarnished with rust, She that was young and fair Fallen to dust. Lily-like, white as snow, She hardly knew She was a woman, so Sweetly she grew. Coffin-board, heavy stone, Lie on her breast, I vex my heart alone She is at rest. Peace, Peace, she cannot hear Lyre or sonnet, All my life’s buried here, Heap earth upon it. ↗


— Oscar Wilde


#love #poetry #death

I fain would follow love, if that could be; I needs must follow death, who calls for me; Call and I follow, I follow! let me die. ↗


— Alfred Tennyson


#love #poetry #death

This is the way the world ends/ This is the way the world ends/ This is the way the world ends/ Not with a bang but a whimper. ↗


— T.S. Eliot


#mortality #poetry #death

It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day Is fairer far in May Although it fall and die that night; It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures life may perfect be (Ben Jonson) ↗


— Aidan Chambers


#beauty

What she did was to open our eyes to details of country life such as teaching us names of wild flowers and getting us to draw and paint and learn poetry. ↗


— Laurie Lee


#details #did #draw #eyes #flowers






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