Quotes by Poets - Page 6

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
In an unfathomable expanse of universe supporting galaxies of star systems with orbiting planets innumerable, I am nothing.  And yet to the few bodies encircling my tiny little spot in the world, I am essential.
Richelle E. Goodrich
True love asks no question of the heart.  It knows with surety.
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
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
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
You baffle me, addle me, drive me insane. You muddle, befuddle, and rattle my brain. My senses are mad, Skewed judgment to blame.You drive me half stark-raving bonkers!(But the truly crazy thing is how I love it.)
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
Compassion only plagues those with hearts, much like a field of thorns only troubles those who bleed.
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
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
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
But you will die, Amor
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
Enemies may unite to eliminate a common threat, but never without a wary eye fixed on their ally.
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
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
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
Announcing the intended arrival of some people is kind of like issuing a hurricane warning. 
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
Obsessing over something that has jarred your world is called coping.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Minutes turn into hours that add up to days amounting to weeks that become  months melting into yearsaccumulating for decadesto pile up for centuriesand ultimately form minutes again―just on a grander, divine scale.
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
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
Humans are forever discontent—always thinking there are better alternatives to their present circumstances.
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
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
Problems are never as difficult as when they are your own.
Richelle E. Goodrich
One of the strongest loves I’ve ever witnessed is the love a mother has for her child.
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
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
Anyone who takes the time to attentively listen is either an old soul or a romantic one.
Richelle E. Goodrich
If you mess with dragons, you will get burned. Don’t say no one warned you.
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
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
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
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
It isn’t always true that a critical end justifies desperate means.
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
She moves me not, or not removes at least affection's edge in me.
William Shakespeare
Life is just repeated attempts at trying to do better.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Who told you it was too late? And more importantly, why did you choose to believe them?
Richelle E. Goodrich
Love will commit, or love will commit suicide.
Anthony Liccione
When I finally find that one willing agent, I'll have found my prize in the Cracker Jack box.
Richelle E. Goodrich
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
Yet should there hover in their restless headsOne thought, one grace, one wonder at the least,Which into words no virtue can digest.
Christopher Marlowe
I truly don’t understand why at every Q and A, someone always asks, “Do you have a routine?” or “Do you write every morning?” Why those questions remain interesting, I really have no idea. But since no one’s putting a gun to their head to ask them, they must compel. They’re probably necessary on a symbolic level more than a literal one, as people cobble together an imagination of what a life devoted to “making” might be like.[I think people want a path to follow. They want a checklist so they can say, “Alright cool, so if I get up at six and I write for this long and I watch this film and I do that…”]It’s weird, because I might have wanted that, too. I used to dance in New York. My Lower East Side days. Modern dance, or whatever. One thing I learned as a dancer was that people learn combinations different ways. Some people, if they get the right side, they can also get the left side right off the top of their head. Some people need to be taught both right and left. Some people count, some people never count, you know? I noticed then that, for me, it was really watching the whole person dancing, trying to take in the whole combination at once, that helped me learn it. I think I’m the same way as a reader—I like to take in the whole book, not getting too specific about how they did it, but ride the bigger example.I mean, at the end of the day, the answer to the question “How did you do it?” is right there, on the page. They’re showing you how they did it, by doing it. Maybe it’s different with art, when you don’t know if someone had all their sculptures knitted or welded by elves somewhere, but with writing, the answer to the question “How do you write a book like this?” is usually, “Like this” [points to book].
Maggie Nelson
There's no point in writing my kind of stuff, when they're printing that kind of stuff. So I gave up and started drinking.
Charles Bukowski
Trying to erase, hide, discredit, degrade, and suppress a writer's work, merit, voice, and influence―is unconstitutional. Censorship only exists to protect corruption.
Suzy Kassem
The amazing ones are, those that don't know it!
Anthony Liccione
A session of boasting won't attract any real friends.  It will set you up on a pedestal, however, making you a clearer target.
Richelle E. Goodrich
silence can sometimes save you. everything doesn’t warrant words.
Alexandra Elle
Had she any respect for him at all, his words would've affected her. But no value accompanies comments spewed from the mouth of a brute.
Richelle E. Goodrich
The eye of true equality often seems to have some degree of disrespect for the supposedly accomplished, privileged high and lofty to the supposedly accomplished, privileged high and lofty, although in reality, it's simply irrespectiveness.
Criss Jami
I am moved by the multitudes of your intelligence and sometimes, returning, I become the sea— in love with your speed, your heaviness and breath.
Frank O'Hara
When I look at a person, I see a person - not a rank, not a class, not a title.
Criss Jami