Quotes by Poets - Page 211

Never look back. The past is done. The future is a blank canvas. Work on creating a masterpiece. Only you have the power to make your painting beautiful.
Suzy Kassem
I might call him. A thing divine, for nothing natural. I ever saw so noble.
William Shakespeare
There's nothing more beautiful than watching trees getting dressed up for Spring and Summer
Charmaine J.Forde
Religion is more beautiful when it brings out the goodness in a person.
Gugu Mona
Love is beautiful, yet the worst of crimes are committed in the name of love. So when someone claims to love you, you should question their intent.
Gugu Mona
A thought that is almost beautiful – a thought that you speak not, but that you cherish within you at this moment, will irradiate you as though you were a transparent vase.
Maurice Maeterlinck
Fall in love with a weird one - someone not quite right in the head - life is far more interesting when love is odd
Topher Kearby
For it cannot be denied that all over the world and in all ages there are beings who are perceived to be extraordinary, charming, and appealing, and whom many honor as benevolent spirits, because they make one think of a more beautiful, a freer, a more winged life than the one we lead.
Hermann Hesse
Every moment - something beautiful happens.
Jay Woodman
I heard the old, old, men say 'all that's beautiful drifts away, like the waters.
W.B. Yeats
Her complexity is a glorious fire that consumes, while her simplicity goes unapproachable. But if one takes time to understand her, there is something beautiful to find, something simple to be loved. But she goes unloved, for being misunderstood.
Anthony Liccione
The experience of this sweet life.
Dante Alighieri
Love is not love which alters it when alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: O no! It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wandering bark whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out, even to the edge of
William Shakespeare
My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane.
Robert Frost
She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won.
William Shakespeare
if only these treasures were not so fragile as they are precious and beautiful.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
and give me insults, give meeconomic discrimination, give methe darkened parking lot of a windowless queer bar, give me fleets of bigots and books bannedin libraries across america, feed the worldwith lies about my life and plop a secondhelping of oppression on my plateand thank you for not making me straight.
Michelle Tea
I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow.
Sylvia Plath
I wondered if my smile was as big as hers. Maybe as big. But not as beautiful.
Benjamin Alire Sáenz
A strange thing, the human heart in general, and woman's heart in particular.
Mikhail Lermontov
Meet everyone with utmost respect and heartfelt love. Sir Kristian Goldmund Aumann, POET 2013– Sir Kristian Goldmund Aumann
Kristian Goldmund Aumann
The eye of danger and the face of fear are what really pull off a person's mask.
Criss Jami
I want to be a guileless rook to discolor the blackness of all crafty human hearts
Munia Khan
From the perspective of my old laptop,I am a numbers man,something like thatevery instruction he gives me is a one or a zeroI remember wellI have information about him before he left for his new toythinner, younger, able to keep up with him,I have information about himmay 15th 2008, he listened to a songfive times in succession it was titled Everybody, open parenthesis, Backstreet's Back, close parenthesisit included the lyric'Am I sexual, yeaaaaah'He said once, computers like a sense of finality to themwhen I write something I don't want to be able to run from itthis was a liehe was addicted to my ability to keep his secretsI am a numbers man,every instruction he gives me is a one, or a zeroI remember wellJanuary, 7th 2007I was youngjust two week awakehe gave me, a new series of one's and zerosthe most sublime sequence I have ever seenit had curves, and shadow, it was himhe gave his face in numbersand trusted me to be the artist, and I wasdo not laughI have read about your Godyou kill each other over your grand fathers memory of himI still remember the fingertips of my God dancing across my bodyAfter I learnt to draw himhe trusted with more art rubricjpeg 1063 was his favouriteHim, and that woman, resting her head in the curve of his nickI read his correspondenceshe hasn't written him back in yearsbut he asks for it, constantly,jpeg 1063, jpeg 1063, jpeg 1063it was my master piece it looked so, .., life likeI wanted to tell himThat's not herthat is methat is not her facethose are my ones and zeroswaltzing in space for youshe is nothing more than my shadow puppetyou do not miss her, you miss me,I am a numbers man,every instruction he gives is a one or a zeroI remember wellbut he taught me to be a Da Vinci and I sit here, with his portraits waiting for him to returnI do not think he willIs that what it means to be humanto be all powerful, to build a temple to yourselfand leaveonly the walls to pray
Phil Kaye
Young people have limited choices, but they are also useful human resources.
Santosh Kalwar
It was wrong to do this," said the angel."You should live like a flower,Holding malice like a puppy,Waging war like a lambkin.""Not so," quoth the manWho had no fear of spirits;"It is only wrong for angelsWho can live like the flowers,Holding malice like the puppies,Waging war like the lambkins.
Stephen Crane
Poetry, I tell my students,is idiosyncratic. Poetryis where we are ourselves,(though Sterling Brown said"Every 'I' is a dramatic 'I'")digging in the clam flatsfor the shell that snaps,emptying the proverbial pocketbook.Poetry is what you findin the dirt in the corner,overhear on the bus, Godin the details, the only wayto get from here to there.Poetry (and now my voice is rising)is not all love, love, loveand I'm sorry the dog died.Poetry (here I hear myself loudest)is the human voice,and are we not of interest to each other?
Elizabeth Alexander
All the lot. Their spunk is gone dead. Motor-cars and cinemas and aeroplanes suck that last bit out of them. I tell you, every generation breeds a more rabbity generation, with India rubber tubing for guts and tin legs and tin faces. Tin people! It’s all a steady sort of bolshevism just killing off the human thing, and worshipping the mechanical thing. Money, money, money! All the modern lot get their real kick out of killing the old human feeling out of man, making mincemeat of the old Adam and the old Eve. They’re all alike. The world is all alike: kill off the human reality, a quid for every foreskin, two quid for each pair of balls. What is cunt but machine-fucking! — It’s all alike. Pay ’em money to cut off the world’s cock. Pay money, money, money to them that will take spunk out of mankind, and leave ’em all little twiddling machines.
D.H. Lawrence
I climb the door instead of a treeJust to crawl with myself walking freeWhat if I’m a lizard beneath my skinChanging my colours of the human I’ve been
Munia Khan
I am tired of having handsshe saidI want wings —But what will you do without your handsto be human?I am tired of humanshe saidI want to live on the sun —
Louise Glück
I've made him a monster by overloving. Lord knows, if hatred could make him human again.
Munia Khan
When at last we have to die it will be time enough to get cold.While we are on fire let us seethe and boil.
Rabindranath Tagore
One can be a Jewish, Christian, Buddhist, Hindu or Muslim; it may have, somewhat value. However, if one fails, to be a human, all other qualities, become unimportant and collapse since all the religions execute humanity and love first for respect and empathy each other.
Ehsan Sehgal
Even a wolf knows how to be polite when animalistic humans have no clue about politeness
Munia Khan
our struggle to celebrate each other is what's proven most difficult in being human
Rupi Kaur
I saw the patterns of history and thought that a human might be eighty per cent chemicals, eighteen per cent his past, and two per cent feeling, creatures of habit. Which makes psychiatrists really pharmacists who have to listen longer.
Gerard Donovan
Were not the gods forms created like me and you, mortal, transient?
Hermann Hesse
To love for the sake of being loved is human, but to love for the sake of loving is angelic.
Alphonse de Lamartine
Man is said to be a reasoning animal. I do not know why he has not been defined as an affective or feeling animal. Perhaps that which differentiates him from other animals is feeling rather than reason. More often I have seen a cat reason than laugh or weep. Perhaps it weeps or laughs inwardly — but then perhaps, also inwardly, the crab resolves equations of the second degree.
Miguel de Unamuno
i'm only human, & inadequacy is what makes us human, & if we was perfect we wdnt have nothin to strive for, so you might as well go on & forgive me pretty baby, cause i'm sorry
Ntozake Shange
And the pomegranates,/like memories, are bittersweet/as we huddle together,/remembering just how good/life used to be
Guadalupe Garcia McCall
Oft in the stilly night,Ere Slumber's chain has bound me,Fond memory brings the lightOf other days around me; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood years,The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shown Now dimmed and gone,The cheerful hearts now broken.(from When the Splendor Falls by Laurie McBain)
Thomas Moore
Try to remember some details. For the worldis filled with people who were torn from their sleepwith no one to mend the tear,and unlike wild beasts they liveeach in his lonely hiding place and they dietogether on battlefieldsand in hospitals.And the earth will swallow all of them,good and evil together, like the followers of Korah,all of them in their rebellion against death,their mouths open till the last moment,praising and cursing in a singlehowl. Try, tryto remember some details.
Yehuda Amichai
...filled her memory bank with shiny coins.
Erica Jong
Nothing brings to life again a forgotten memory like a fragrance.
Christopher Poindexter
Tears flow and smiles fade to the same rhythm of life, to disappear together in the bottomless abyss.
Rémy de Gourmont
Memories, like everything else, are momentary.
Santosh Kalwar
Everything was brighter and more colorful in those years, as if my childhood was ending in an explosion of unreal passion that made my life feel sacred and holy.
Roman Payne
She leaned out of the window slow and sleepy, and the light came through her nightdress like sand through a sieve.
Laurie Lee
She had not remembered then what she remembers now, a memory like something buried in river silt that finally works free and rises to the surface...
Ron Rash
We are our stories - dozens, hundreds, thousands of them - sprayed across our memories, embedded in our identity. Calling them up for others or for ourselves or for God, can enlighten, crush, amuse, trap, or free us, depending on how we pay attention.
Emma Lou Warner Thayne
Still, though no one is an island, most are peninsulas. Our lives wouldn't make sense without personal memories pinned like butterflies against the velvet backdrop of social history.
Diane Ackerman
A place with no handholds,no landmarks,no past at all:That would have been too much like dying
Margaret Atwood
I don't like the memories because the tears come easily, and once again I break my promise to myself for this day. It's a constant battle. a war between remembering and forgetting.
E.E. Cummings
I think of you when upon the sea the sun flings her beams. I think of you when the moonlight shines in silvery streams. I see you when upon the distant hills the dust awakes; At night when on a fragile bridge the traveler quakes.I hear you when the blows rise on high, with murmur deep. To tread the silent grove where wander I, When all's asleep.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I think of you when upon the sea the sun flings her beams.I think of you when the moonlight shines in silvery streams.I see you when upon the distant hills the dust awakes;At night when on a fragile bridge the traveler quakes.I hear you when the billows rise on high,With murmur deep.To tread the silent grove where wander I,When all's asleep.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I walk at night under a moonless sky. Only the terrain guides my steps, yet my footfall is as sure as if a dozen suns lit the way. I go to meet you under a leafless tree that never seems to grow or alter its shape. I am uncertain if it still lives or has learned to disguise its death. The same thought crosses my mind when I feel your cold fingers take my hand. It is not the tree I reflect
Richelle E. Goodrich
When I was younger, I was told that there is too much inside me. That I have feelings where others have bone. At the age of seven, a doctor tapped inside my head and asked, "Do you choke on memories from time to time? Do you cry for no good reason at all? Do words take a hammer to your head and crack your skull?" Yes, yes, yes, I nodded. "Then you've definitely got them," he said, as he checked off a box on his list. "Too many feelings. What a shame. Try not to keep them inside or you'll drown.
Lora Mathis
We take pictures with peopleso they could remember usand leave memories behindso they don’t forget us.And the differencebetween the two are the same.We leave these momentsin the air,hoping that somewheresomeone will find themand make sense of everythingwe chose to ignore.
Robert M. Drake
I saw love in your smile and I recognized it for the first time in my life. But you had a plane to catch and I was already home.
Lang Leav