You don't have to deserve your mother's love. You have to deserve your father s. He's more particular. The father is always a Republican towards his son, and his mother's always a Democrat.
End is a gloomy word.
We can make a little order where we are, and then the big sweep of history on which we can have no effect doesn't overwhelm us. We do it with colors, with a garden, with the furnishings of a room, or with sounds and words. We make a little form, and we gain composure.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
Poetry is about the grief. Politics is about the grievance.
And of course there must be something wrong In wanting to silence any song.
We love the things we love for what they are.
O hushed October morning mild, Begin the hours of this day slow, Make the day seem to us less brief... Retard the sun with gentle mist; Enchant the land with amethyst.
The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But the theory now goes That the apple's a rose, And the pear is, and so's The plum, I suppose. The dear only knows What will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose - But were always a rose.
The best things and best people rise out of their separateness; I'm against a homogenized society because I want the cream to rise.
All thought is a feat of association; having what's in front of you bring up something in your mind that you almost didn't know you knew
The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day.
Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak.
Don't be agnostic - be something.
Thinking is not to agree or disagree. That's voting.
Many lovers have been divorced By having what is free enforced.
You know how cunningly mankind is planned: We have one loving and one hating hand. The loving's made to hold each other like, While with the hating other hand we strike.
A definite purpose, like blinders on a horse, inevitably narrows its possessor's point of view.
If one by one we counted people out For the least sin, it wouldn't take us long To get so we had no one left to live with. For to be social is to be forgiving.
The first thing I do in the morning is to make my bed and while I am making up my bed I am making up my mind as to what kind of a day I am going to have.
To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.
The mind-is not the heart. I may yet live, as I know others live, To wish in vain to let go with the mind- Of cares, at night, to sleep; but nothing tells me That I need learn to let go with the heart.
The people I am most afraid of are those who are the most afraid.
Meditate nothing. Learn to contemplate. Contemplate glory. There will be a light. Contemplate Truth until it burns your eyes out.
The ear is the only true writer and the only true reader. I know people who read without hearing the sentence sounds and they were the fastest readers. Eye readers we call them. They get the meaning by glances. But they are bad readers because they miss the best part of what a good writer puts into his work.
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