#poetry

Immortal amarant, a flower which once In paradise, fast by the tree of life, Began to bloom; but soon for man's offence To heaven removed, where first it grew, there grows, And flowers aloft, shading the fount of life, And where the river of bliss through midst of heaven Rolls o'er elysian flowers her amber stream: With these that never fade the spirits elect Bind their resplendent locks. ↗

— John Milton

#religion #life

I think it was Milosz, the Polish poet, who when he lay in a doorway and watched the bullets lifting the cobbles out of the street beside him realised that most poetry is not equipped for life in a world where people actually die. But some is. ↗

— Ted Hughes

#life #poetry #vasko-popa #life

A hidden spark of the dream sleeps In the forest and waits In the celestial spheres of the brain. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#celestial #circling #dejan-stojanovic #dreams #forest

Dreams are our only geography—our native land. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#dreams #geography #land #literature #literature-quotes

I want my life to be the greatest story. My very existence will be the greatest poem. Watch me burn. Love always, Charlotte ↗

— Charlotte Eriksson

#dreams #existence #goals #growing-up #inspiration

And I or you pocketless of a dime, may purchase the pick of the earth. ↗

— Walt Whitman

#highland #leaves-of-grass #nature #poetry #song

Sprawled out on the front lawn Looking up at an ordinary sky It could fall on me and somehow be The day I didn't die ↗

— Nick Burd

#poetry #death

This world that was our home for a brief spell never brought us anything but pain and grief; its a shame that not one of our problems was ever solved. We depart with a thousand regrets in our hearts. ↗

— Omar Khayyám

#grief #home #life #pain #poetry

The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,-- The sweeping up the heart, And putting love away We shall not want to use again Until eternity ↗

— Emily Dickinson

#poetry #death

He feeds upon her face by day and night, And she with true kind eyes looks back on him, Fair as the moon and joyful as the light: Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim; Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright; Not as she is, but as she fills his dream. ↗

— Christina Rossetti

#gabriel-rossetti #lizzie-siddal #poetry #pre-raphaelite #dreams