Quotes by Poets - Page 4

Come let us haste, the stars grow high, But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.
John Milton
When I look up at Heaven,I see the souls of those who diedBeaming down at me,Wanting to scream: “I'm still alive!”,Wishing to scribble across the sapphire sky -Letters to their loved ones,But a million dark oceans stand between us,Between those who passed and the living,Between those of us still stuck below,And those who have crossed over the threshold of time -Where what seems like eternity to us,Is really only a few minutes to them.So you see, there is no reason to weep over the shining ones -For even though the space that separates us is limitless,The wall of time that divides us is only paper-thin.And one day, we shall all reunite with them,When our souls are released like fishBack into the vast shimmering seaTo shine together likeGlittering diamonds.
Suzy Kassem
At night in this part of the West the stars, as I had seen them in Wyoming, were as big as Roman Candles and as lonely as the Prince who's lost his ancestral home and journeys across the spaces trying to find it again, and knows he never will.
Jack Kerouac
We divided ourselves among caste, creed, culture and countries but what is undivided remains most valuable: a mere smile and the love.
Santosh Kalwar
Before the thunderous clamor of political debate or war set loose in the world, love insisted on its promise for the possibility of human unity: between men and women, between blacks and whites, northerners and southerners, haves and have-have-nots, self and self.
Aberjhani
Everything passes through the eyes of top bureaucrats who closely watch to ensure that no intruder can enter their ranks and disrupt the order and arrangement of values in which everything is predetermined and where everyone knows their place, everyone’s potential, talent and position in history.
Dejan Stojanovic
Setting fire to the roofs, getting away with the loot, suiting herself. She studied modern philosophy, read Sartre on the side, smoked Gitanes, and cultivated a look of bored contempt. But inwardly, she was seething with unfocused excitement, and looking for someone to worship.
Margaret Atwood
..... this isn't some LA country rock jam reminiscing on the pyschtotropic pot pansies of Haight Ashbury . This is the soot and smut of London mate !
Saira Viola
A distant love that waits to be together, is by far the most difficult relationship. It's like lighting a candle, and adoring the long flame and robust glow. Until time sets in like wax, overflowing deeper and deeper into the wick, leaving a sparse flame struggling to live. This is where most distant relationships fade, with the wax smothering the flame. This kind of relationship takes patience, hope, unconditional love, trust and strength, all centered around God. If the flame endures to the end, and the two come together, only then will it feel as if the candle was tipped and all the wax came pouring out, when the flame is revived, long and glowing again.
Anthony Liccione
When the time has come, every leaf turns to face the sun!
Akilnathan Logeswaran
it is clear that we must trust what is difficult; everything alive trusts in it, everything in Nature grows and defends itself any way it can and is spontaneously itself, tries to be itself at all costs and against all opposition. We know little, but that we must trust in what is difficult is a certainty that will never abandon us; it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be one more reason for us to do it.
Rainer Maria Rilke
To be strong does not mean to sprout muscles and flex. It means meeting one's own numinosity without fleeing, actively living with the wild nature in one's own way. It means to be able to learn, to be able to stand what we know. It means to stand and live.
Clarissa Pinkola Estés
I, too, head for the Baths of Caracalla,thinking—with my old, magnificentprivilege of thinking…(And let there still be a god in me that thinks,lost, weak, and childish,yet whose voice is so humanit is almost a song.) Oh, to leavethis prison of poverty!To be free of the yearningthat makes these ancient nights so splendid!He who knows yearning, and he who does not,have something in common: man’s desires are humble.
Pier Paolo Pasolini
Let us not fear our wild thoughts for they can give rise to wondrous contemplation, creative endeavour, life changing ideas, momentous bliss.
Jay Woodman
I would say Pittsburgh softly each time before throwing him up. Whisper Pittsburgh with my mouth against the tiny ear and throw him higher. Pittsburgh and happiness high up. The only way to leave even the smallest trace. So that all his life her son would feel gladness unaccountably when anyone spoke of the ruined city of steel in America. Each time almost remembering something maybe important that got lost.
Jack Gilbert
I guess that's how they were able to do it, in the way they did it, all at once, without anyone knowing beforehand. If there had still been portable money, it would have been more difficult. It was after the catastrophe, when they shot the president and machine-gunned the Congress and the army declared a state of emergency. They blamed it on the Islamic fanatics at the time. I was stunned. Everyone was, I know that. It was hard to believe, the entire government gone like that. How did they get in, how did it happen? That was when they suspended the Constitution. They said it would be temporary. There wasn't even any rioting in the streets. People stayed home at night, watching television, looking for some direction. There wasn't even an enemy you could put your finger on.
Margaret Atwood
While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening to empire, I And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the mass hardens, I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots to make earth. Qut of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and decadence; and home to the mother. You making haste haste on decay: not blameworthy; life is good, be it stubbornly long or suddenly A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than mountains: shine, perishing republic. But for my children. I would have them keep their dis-tance from the thickening center; corruption.Never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the monster’s feet there are left the mountajns. And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man, a clever servant, insufferable master. There is the trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught -–they say--God, when he walked on earth.
Robinson Jeffers
We have flattered ourselves by inventing proverbs of comparison in matter of blindness,--"blind as a bat," for instance. It would be safe to say that there cannot be found in the animal kingdom a bat, or any other creature, so blind in its own range of circumstance and connection, as the greater majority of human beings are in the bosoms of their families. Tempers strain and recover, hearts break and heal, strength falters, fails, and comes near to giving way altogether, every day, without being noted by the closest lookers-on.
Helen Hunt Jackson
My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight.Her hands asleep beside her.Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my lifefor our love is wholeI sing her beauty in my soul.
Roman Payne
There are as many ways of loving as there are people, and that wildflower variety is the great beauty of this dimension of existence.
Jalaluddin Rumi
On Hallows Eve, we witches meetto broil and bubble tasty treatslike goblin thumbs with venom dip,crisp bat wings, and fried fingertips.We bake the loudest cackle crunch,and brew the thickest quagmire punch.Delicious are the rotting flieswhen sprinkled over spider pies.And, my oh my, the ogre brainsall scrambled up with wolf remains!But what I love the most, it’s true,are festered boils mixed in stew.They cook up oh so tenderly.It goes quite well with mugwort tea.So, don’t be shy; the cauldron’s hot.Jump in! We witches eat a lot!
Richelle E. Goodrich
When I look back to where I come from, I realize it's for a good reason that God changed my life.
Gugu Mona
Love is knowing someone so deeply, understanding her so completely, that you can finish her thoughts without hesitation, confident in reading her face, her body, even her slightest gesture means something to you.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Last night I danced. My body rose from its slump for the first time since the beginning of sorrows—my fingers beckoning to the stars at arm's length, back arching as tingles bubbled up my spine, hips caught in a silent tempo while on tiptoe I twirled in endless euphoric circles. It didn't matter that you loved me or that you didn't. For I was wanted by the gods last night, their seraphs and muses descending on moonbeams into my midst, caressing my face and gliding their spirited arms about my waist, lifting my toes from the soil that I might feel what it is to fly without heaviness of heart. I danced with them under the glow of a loyal moon. For one brief, visceral dance I joyed as Heaven joys—in endless bliss.And the universe cherished me.
Richelle E. Goodrich
There's enchantment in a smile, did you know?Shall I prove in a wink that it is so?Watch my mouth grin wide and see,How quick your lips smile back at me!
Richelle E. Goodrich
Frozen yogurt is tastier than ice cream; nobody is too old for cartoons; bald men are sexy; chocolate is the best medicine; BIG books are better; cats secretly rule the planet; and everything should be available in the color pink, including monster trucks.
Richelle E. Goodrich
The watchful Mishmorat commented while waiting, contemplating Eena’s bare back. “Your people are so plain and pale.”“Oh?” Eena kinked her neck to look at Niki, zeroing in on her long spotted arms. Her bronze skin was arguably more striking—speckled in beautiful patterns.“I’m sorry,” the Mishmorat quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’ve never seen such bare skin before. There’s nothing to look at.”Eena quickly pulled the new t-shirt down over her back. She chuckled at Niki’s comment. “I’ll admit your people are very attractive. But I’m okay with my ‘plainness.’” She glanced over her pale legs before pulling on a clean pair of pants. “You’re kinda like a clear, cloudless sky,” Niki said, cocking her head wonderingly.“And you’re like a…..a sky dotted with shapely clouds.”“Only dark clouds.”“Storm clouds.”“Yeah,” Niki grinned devilishly, “That’s me—a sky full of storm clouds.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Time is an imp—a pesky, little, hellish troll that hastens the clock when I smile but then delays the passing of minutes when I frown.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Life is a voyage across troubled waters where our days are often spent clinging to the top of the highest mast, scouting for a comforting glimpse of shore.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Enemies may unite to eliminate a common threat, but never without a wary eye fixed on their ally.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Tell me you didn’t,” she groaned, knowing it would not be the truth. “Please tell me you didn’t take advantage of these poor people.”t“I didn’t,” he chirped.t“Liar.”tWith an irritated sigh he tried to convince her. “Amora, you’re not seeing things from an immortal perspective. The people who built this temple…”t“Temple?” she cried, cutting him off. “You forced these people to build you a temple? Why? Because all of a sudden you’re God now?”tPerturbed by her interruption, he raised a warning finger. “No, no, Amora, not God. But from their viewpoint I may seem a bit…..god-like.”tShe rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner.t“If you would let me finish,” he went on, “these particular individuals had no part in the construction of that monument; it was their ancestors who erected it. And I must say, they did a fine job. My likeness has weathered the centuries quite well.”t“You’re despicable.”tHe frowned at the insult. “Nobody was forced to build us a temple, Amora. They chose to do so.”t“You were that impressive to them, huh?”t“Apparently.” His eyes twinkled at the memory. He took a few steps toward the distant city, pulling Eena along. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.”t“No way.” She planted her feet, refusing. Surprisingly it put a stop to him. t“And why not?”t“Because your sudden appearance will upset them! No doubt you’ll want to show off with some shockingly grand entrance. I’m not going to take part in a game of deceit.”t“I’m not deceiving anyone,” Edgar disputed. “I can’t help it if they happen to think I’m perfectly magnificent.”tHis pompous view of himself earned a nasty look as well as a lecture. “I can’t believe you’re okay with selling people lies that affect the way they live and think! You’re not even close to being a god, Edgar, and yet you allow them to accept you as some sort of deity because of your unusual abilities. For centuries now you’ve abandoned this world and a population who probably looked to you and your lousy sisters for help. It’s all a big, disgusting sham!”tEdgar pouted like a child. “Fine—spoil all my fun. We’ll go do something else. Something that doesn’t include your poor, fragile, stupid mortals.”t“They’re not stupid.”t“They think I’m a god,” he sn
Richelle E. Goodrich
You know the story.” The Nalnom rotated his hand in the air as if she should recall it.t“I don’t. I’ve never heard the story.”tJoshlon summarized it for her. “Prometheus was turned into a dragon by his angry lover, Naradite. She refused to turn him back into his manly form. He became the first fire-breathing dragon—Naga the Terrible.”tEena dropped her lower jaw. “What?”t“Naradite turned Prometheus into a dragon,” Joshlon repeated. “Naga.”t“And Prometheus is Edgar’s father?” She was sure the surrounding stares were the result of her virtually shouting out the question.tJoshlon answered with some hesitance in his voice. “I don’t know who Edgar is, but Edgarmetheus was supposedly the son of Prometheus, the illegitimate child of him and his lover, Naradi
Richelle E. Goodrich
Freedom is essential to the pursuit of happiness. Freedom is essential to artistic evolution and expression. Freedom is essential to the expansion of the human mind. Freedom is essential to the development and application of basic humanitarianism.Freedom is essential to the creation of an individual's will, motivations, preferences, and unique talents. In essence, freedom is essential to the success and progress of humanity.
Richelle E. Goodrich
But you will die, Amor
Richelle E. Goodrich
They went back to scooping up breakfast, licking the mess off their fingers. Soon the pile of berry mush was gone and their tongues were dyed a nice midnight blue. Ian seemed in a good mood, sticking his tongue out playfully at his best friend. Eena did likewise, right back at him. She was happy he was smiling, even if his teeth were purple. t(You’re too much fun, Eena,) Ian announced in her mind. (I’m really glad we’re friends.)t(Me too,) she agreed. (Best friends.)tIan leaned back on his hands and watched the waves roll in from far off. The swells were building into large, flat-crested waves. (Angelle never thought like you do. You’re creative and kinda crazy. Her thoughts were always more simple and, well…..normal.) t(Yeah, well, deadly dragons and evil witches tend to suck all the normal right out of you,) she grumbled.t(I suppose.)
Richelle E. Goodrich
It's too bad we're not all teddy bears. More stuffing would only make us cuter and cuddlier.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Saying 'I'm sorry' is saying 'I love you' with a wounded heart in one hand and your smothered pride in the other.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Obsessing over something that has jarred your world is called coping.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I think I'd rather be liked than loved. It just seems as if more criticism and chastening is shown to those we love, while kind manners and compassion are reserved for those we simply like. So, I hope you like me.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I dream of defeating tyrants and ogres as well as circumstances and consequences that I cannot conquer in life. I dream of a love as sweet and addictive as chocolate-coated rose petals yet as tenacious as a thirsty vampire and as enduring as immortality. I dream of things improbable and boldly insane.
Richelle E. Goodrich
It is my belief that almost anyone can be had with breadcrumbs. For if you leave a trail of the right variety, your prey will come straight to you.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Humans are forever discontent—always thinking there are better alternatives to their present circumstances.
Richelle E. Goodrich
If we were to behave half as well as we believe others ought to behave, we might prove ourselves as grand in character as excuses and justifications prevent us from being.
Richelle E. Goodrich
One day a week I seek to rest from earthly toil and sorrow.Revitalized, I find the strength to battle new tomorrows.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I know they don’t respect the lives of others…”“Mortals,” he specified, “who exist for a brief moment and then die off.”Her voice rose as she argued with him. “I speak of people with very valued lives, Edgar. It may seem like a moment to you, but to me it is eternity.”“That makes no sense.”“It makes perfect sense, Edgar! Life is valuable—period. And because mine can be easily taken away, it becomes even more valuable and precious. Yours, you take for granted because you’ll never lose it. Mine, I cherish because it’s fleeting. For that reason alone I can argue that my life is of the greatest worth.”His eyebrows pulled together over a tangled scowl. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to understand her reasoning or if she had merely managed to upset him.“Never mind,” she mumbled. “I don’t think you can appreciate what you’ve never experienced.“That works both ways, Amora.”“Whatever.
Richelle E. Goodrich
The whispers you hear in your ear that you fear in the air everywhere,they are ghosts.The moans and the groans in the lowest of tones no one owns or condones, they are ghosts.You might deem them gremlins or water or wind,while others say shadows or rodents or sin.But oh! I say no! ‘Tis not so, child, for lo!The chills that you feel in a thrill that proves goose bumps are frightfully real,they are ghosts!
Richelle E. Goodrich
I never knew what Mother knowed,Like how a thread and needle sewed,And how a kiss healed boo-boos fast.Why family knots were made to last.I never knew how Mother sawA caring man in angry pa,A smile beneath the teary gloom,A game inside a messy room.I never knowed what Mother knew,Like how to smile when days were blue,And how to laugh for laughter’s sake,While giving up her slice of cake.I never saw what Mother see’dLike honor pulling garden weeds,Or deep confessions in a look,And hope alive in storybooks.I never knew how Mother knowedTo hand out carrots when it snowed,And why hot cocoa liked the rain,While naptime kept a person sane.For mother knowed and see’d it all.A winner in a strike-out ball.A 'yes, please' in a shoulder shrug.A 'love you mostest' in a hug.Perhaps, someday, I’ll come to knowWhat Mother saw and knowed as so.Like how 'I’m right' can be all wrong,And why the night requires a song.But of the things I learned and knewI never doubted one thing true.My mother made it crystal clear,she knowed and loved me ever dear.
Richelle E. Goodrich
One of the strongest loves I’ve ever witnessed is the love a mother has for her child.
Richelle E. Goodrich
If you mess with dragons, you will get burned. Don’t say no one warned you.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Kresh kept silent beside me as Baron rehearsed his deadly plan. I listened with my eyes aimed at the horizon, witnessing the night consume a final red vein of daylight. It struck me that nightfall always drowned the sunset. Never did the sun resurface from where it sank, nor would it ever.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Turn around….you’ve got grass and dead flowers…”My fingers naturally began to comb through my long, black strands, shaking things loose as Sarti carefully removed more stubborn pieces. The flowers had been left over from my forced marriage to Thaddeus. The grass, from a sensual night with Kresh the eve of my honeymoon. Devilish irony.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I let my sword slip to the ground, and for the second time I stood unarmed in the presence of werewolves.Kresh put his lips to my forehead, and my skin burned beneath his kiss. When his hands repositioned to take me by the waist, my breathing—already shallow—ceased entirely. Then his lips fell on mine and I was suddenly everything he claimed me to be—his mate, his wife, his world.The taste of him seemed mysteriously new and old at the same time. Every bit of tension eased as if internally I had come home again, and yet a sense of foreignness made our connection a sweet venture. My breast was afire as he continued to grasp my hips, keeping me close. I burned for him as if vampire venom were coursing through every inch of me. The man was a constellation of suns in my desire, unlike Thaddeus who hardly equaled a speck of stardust. The thought of that coward reminded me of grim news. It took every bit of willpower I possessed to tear my lips away from what they craved, and yet I remained a submissive puddle in this werewolf’s arms.
Richelle E. Goodrich
It isn’t always true that a critical end justifies desperate means.
Richelle E. Goodrich
The fact is, the man who’d begotten me didn’t want me. In his eyes I should never have been born. And perhaps that would’ve been best. As it was, my existence had proven to be nothing more than a nuisance for everyone. I angered my father, brought strife upon my mother, irritated my teachers, and annoyed the other children who were forced to interact with me in school. All by simply being. tWhen you aren’t loved, you aren’t real. Life is cold, like the stone against my palm.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I love you.I love you a thousand times.I love you an irrational number. And I will continue to love youlong after all this has died and been rebornand we are nothing more than a pair of reincarnated eyes.
Kamand Kojouri
Life is just repeated attempts at trying to do better.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Love will commit, or love will commit suicide.
Anthony Liccione
In a certain sense, you do write to seduce the world, but when it happens, you begin to feel like a whore. The disparity between your life and your work turns out to be as great as ever. And the people seduced by your work are usually seduced by all the wrong reasons.
Erica Jong
I might be tempted to socialize more if the conversations taking place around me were half as interesting as the dialogue going on inside my head.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Every writer must acknowledge and be able to handle the unalterable fact that he has, in effect, given himself a life sentence in solitary confinement.
Peter Straub