Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
My cradle was a shoe.
What you remember saves you.
We are the echo of the future.
Your absence has gone through me
I offer you what I have my Poverty
We are not born to survive. Only to live.
We are asleep with compasses in our hands.
From what we cannot hold the stars are made.
Now all my teachers are dead except silence.
The story of each stone leads back to a mountain.
I needed my mistakes in their order to get me here
That's a great gift to be given, that feeling of no fear.
On the last day of the world I would want to plant a tree
Poetry is a way of looking at the world for the first time.
I have with me all that I do not knowI have lost none of it.
I have been younger in October than in all the months of spring.
You grieve Not that heaven does not exist but That it exists without us
we travel far and fast and as we pass through we forget where we have been
Through all of youth I was looking for you without knowing what I was looking for
Laughter was the shape the darkness took around the first appearance of the light.
I will take with me the emptiness of my hands. What you do not have you find everywhere
Every year without knowing it I have passed the day When the last fires will wave to me
Modern poetry, for me, began not in English at all but in Spanish, in the poems of Lorca.
In a sense, much that is learned is bound to be bad habits. You're always beginning again.
My words are the garment of what I shall never be Like the tucked sleeve of a one-armed boy.
What turned me into an environmentalist, on my eleventh birthday, was seeing the first strip mine.
Send me out into another life lord because this one is growing faint I do not think it goes all the way
The time of wisdom cannot be measured, and for me, wisdom is the garden. There is no time in the garden.
Democracy's got endless problems and faults and dangers, but it's certain the alternatives are not better.
Poetry is like making a joke. If you get one word wrong at the end of a joke, you've lost the whole thing.
I wouldn't be happy about being considered a love poet or an environmental - I don't want any of those tags.
Separation Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.
come back believer in shade believer in silence and elegance believer in ferns believer in patience believer in the rain
Certain words now in our knowledge we will not use again, and we will never forget them. We need them. Like the back of the picture.
He said you should write about 75 lines every day. You know, Pound was a great one for laying down the law about how you did anything.
I think poetry is as old as language, and both come out of the same thing - an effort to try to express something that is inexpressible.
Of course there is nothing the matter with the stars It is my emptiness among them While they drift farther away in the invisible morning
Jeffersonian democracy, faulty as it is, and only the fragment of it that we have, is a thing of such preciousness, a thing of such value.
So this is what I am Pondering his eyes that could not Conceive that I was a creature to run from I who have always believed too much in words
To succeed [,] consider what is as though it were past, deem yourself inevitable and take credit for it. If you no longer believe, enlarge the temple.
The kind of writing that matters most to me is something you don't learn about. It's constantly coming out of what I don't know rather than what I do know.
As soon as I could write with a little pencil, I was writing these little hymns and illustrating them, and I thought they should be sung in church, but they never were.
If there'd been a better-balanced society, where there were other ways of making a decent living, I think it might have been different. That's not the way this setup work.
After an age of leaves and feathers someone dead thought of the mountain as money and cut the trees that were here and the wind and the rain at night. It is hard to say it.
We're losing a species every few seconds. We cannot put them back. If we change our mind and say, 'Oops, we made a mistake' - it's too late. This is the world we live with.
I say to my breath once again, little breath come from in front of me, go away behind me, row me quietly now, as far as you can, for I am an abyss that I am trying to cross.
I also think that life itself is both indifferent to us and the source of all of our joys and everything that we love. And it's necessary to accept the one in order to love the other.
As a child, I used to have a secret dread - and a recurring nightmare - of the whole world becoming city, being covered with cement and buildings and streets. No more country. No more woods.
I go five steps in the garden, and I immediately lose track of time... it is a kind of joy in being alive in being in the world. I always found that in the garden. That is what it means to me.
I think memory is essential to what we are. If we - we wouldn't be able to talk to each other without memory. And what we think of as the present really is the past. It is made out of the past.