#poetry

I held a jewel in my fingers And went to sleep. The day was warm, and winds were prosy; I said: "'T will keep." I woke and chid my honest fingers,— The gem was gone; And now an amethyst remembrance Is all I own. ↗

— Emily Dickinson

#poetry #poetry-quotes

¡Los suspiros son aire y van al aire! ¡Las lágrimas son agua y van al mar! Dime, mujer, cuando el amor se olvida ¿sabes tú adónde va? ↗

— Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer

#poetry #spanish #love

Where to start? Everything cracks and shakes, The air trembles with similes, No one world's better than another; the earth moans with metaphors. ↗

— Osip Mandelstam

#poetry #simile #simile

Here the phenomenologist has nothing in common with the literary critic who, as has frequently been noted, judges a work that he could not create and, if we are to believe certain facile condemnations, would not want to create. A literary critic is a reader who is necessarily severe. By turning inside out like a glove an overworked complex that has become debased to the point of being part of the vocabulary of statesmen, we might say that the literary critic and the professor of rhetoric, who know-all and judge-all, readily go in for a simplex of superiority. As for me, being an addict of felicitous reading, I only read and re-read what I like, with a bit of reader's pride mixed in with much enthusiasm. ↗

— Gaston Bachelard

#literary-criticism

There can be no forced inspiration. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#dejan-stojanovic #inspiration #literature #literature-quotes #philosophy

Anyone who has no need of anybody but himself is either a beast or a God." Aristotle ↗

— Bruce Wayne Sullivan

#animals #childhood-memories #dogs #good-book #life-struggles

There is some kiss we want with our whole lives, the touch of spirit on the body. Seawater begs the pearl to break its shell. and the lily, how passionately it needs some wild darling! At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language door and open the lovers window. The moon won’t use the door, only the window. ↗

— Rumi

#love #lovers #poetry #love

Little Cinder Girl, they can't understand you. You rise from the as-heap in a blaze and only then do they recognize you as their one true love. While you pray beneath your mother's tree you carrve a phoenix into your palm wth aa hazel twig and coal; every night she devours more of you. You used to believe in angels. Now you believe in the makeover; if you can't get the grime off your face and your foot into a size six heel who will ever bother to notice you? The kettle and the broom sear in your grasp, snap into fragments. The turtledoves sing, "There's blood within the shoe." You deserve the palace, you think, as you signal the pigeons to attack, approve the barrel filled with red-hot nails. Its great hearth beckons, and the prince's flag rises crimson in the angry sun. He will love you for the heat you generate, for the flames you ignite around you, though he encase your tiny feet in glass to keep them from scorching the ground. ↗

— Jeannine Hall Gailey

#love

How can I find the words? Poets have taken them all and left me with nothing to say or do" "Except to teach me for the first time what they meant. ↗

— Dorothy L. Sayers

#love #poetry #love

(1)BEING A POET is like opening a car door & exposing yourself. (2)BEING A GOOD POET is like opening the door & exposing the passenger as well. ↗

— Chocolate Waters

#poetry-quotes #humor