Poetry Quotes

Laureate, adj. Crowned with leaves of the laurel. In England the Poet Laureate is an officer of the sovereign’s court, acting as dancing skeleton at every royal feast and singing-mute at every royal funeral.

For wheresoe’er I turn my ravish’d eyes, Gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise, Poetic fields encompass me around, And still I seem to tread on classic ground.

I think that poetry is fundamentally frivolity. I do it because I like it. The only serious thing is loving God and your neighbor. Because you can say, “I’m not a mathematician,” or “I’m not an artist, and that’s all right because I have no talent for it.” Everything that isn’t required of you is […]

Talent is like a faucet; while it is open, you have to write. – A hoax fabricated by poets for their self-importance.

Poets live in dreams and die in hunger.

If every man’s internal care Were written on his brow, How many would our pity share Who raise our envy now!

Dreams are the eraser dust I blow off my page. They fade into the emptiness, another dark gray day. Dreams are only memories of the plans I had back then. Dreams are eraser dust and now I use a pen.

The past may not repeat itself, but it sure does rhyme.

I’m growing fonder of my staff; I’m growing dimmer in the eyes; I’m growing fainter in my laugh; I’m growing deeper in my sighs; I’m growing careless of my dress; I’m growing frugal of my gold; I’m growing wise; I’m growing – yes, – I’m growing old!

I think that I shall never see A number as lovely as a three. For three is just one less than four But, compared with two, it is one more. The charm is the third time; Three is the first odd prime. Thirds are cut by fools like me, But only God is One in […]