Painting is mute poetry, and poetry is blind painting
— Thoughts on Art and Life
Quotes About Poetry
I walk alone, absorbed in my fantastic play, — Fencing with rhymes, which, parrying nimbly, back away; Tripping on words, as on rough paving in the street, Or bumping into verses I long had dreamed to meet.
— Les Fleurs Du Mal
In visions of the night, like dropping rain, Descend the many memories of pain
— Agamemnon
How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true; But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
— The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats
If I had my life to live over again, I would have made a rule to read some poetry and listen to some music at least once every week.
— The Autobiography of Charles Darwin, 1809–82
Those ancients who in poetry presented the golden age, who sang its happy state, perhaps, in their Parnassus, dreamt this place. Here, mankind's root was innocent; and herewere every fruit and never-ending spring; these streams--the nectar of which poets sing.
— The Divine Comedy
I live not in myself, but I become / Portion of that around me: and to me / High mountains are a feeling, but the humof human cities torture.
— Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit.and perhaps it will be pleasing to have remembered these things one day
— Eclogues. Georgics. Aeneid: Books 1-6
Door of passage to the other side, the soul frees itself in stride.
— The Lords and the New Creatures
Wake! For the Sun, who scatter'd into flight / The Stars before him from the Field of Night, Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes / The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light
— The Ruba'iyat of Omar Khayyam
Here is a greedy man who keeps to himself / The beautiful pears ripe in his garden.
— The Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches
What does life give me in the end but sorrow? What do love's good and evil send but sorrow?I've only seen one true companion - pain, And I have known no faithful friend but sorrow.
— The Nightingales are Drunk
You will never be alone with a poet in your pocket.
— The Letters of John and Abigail Adams
As wave is driven by wave And each, pursued, pursues the wave ahead, So time flies on and follows, flies, and follows, Always, for ever and new. What was before Is left behind; what never was is now; And every passing moment is renewed.
— Metamorphoses
Because philosophy arises from awe, a philosopher is bound in his way to be a lover of myths and poetic fables. Poets and philosophers are alike in being big with wonder.
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.
Being human means throwing your whole life on the scales of destiny when need be, all the while rejoicing in every sunny day and every beautiful cloud.
Why do they [Americans] quarrel, why do they hate Negroes, Indians, even Germans, why do they not have science and poetry commensurate with themselves, why are there so many frauds and so much nonsense? I cannot soon give a solution to these questions ... It was clear that in the United States there was a development not of the best, but of the middle and worst sides of European civilization; the notorious general voting, the tendency to politics... all the same as in Europe. A new dawn is not to be seen on this side of the ocean.
No one understands now. Those who couldhear a song this deeply vanished long ago.
Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with meAnd tune his merry note, Unto the sweet bird's throat; Come hither, come hither, come hither. Here shall he see / No enemy / But winter and rough weather.
— As You Like It
Some people will tell you there is a great deal of poetry and fine sentiment in a chest of tea.
— Letters and Social Aims
The flower bloomed and faded. The sun rose and sank. The lover loved and went. And what the poets said in rhyme, the young translated into practice.
— Orlando
Oh! That was poetry!" said Pippin. "Do you really mean to start before the break of day?
— The Fellowship of the Ring