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Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen
Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen
If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no read more
If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no other choice. Failing this duty, he sinks into oblivion. Society, on the other hand, has no obligation toward the poet. A majority by definition, society thinks of itself as having other options than reading verses, no matter how well written. Its failure to do so results in its sinking to that level of locution at which society falls easy prey to a demagogue or a tyrant. This is society's own equivalent of oblivion.
Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.
Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.
The poet is in the end probably more afraid of the dogmatist who wants to extract the message from the read more
The poet is in the end probably more afraid of the dogmatist who wants to extract the message from the poem and throw the poem away than he is of the sentimentalist who says, "Oh, just let me enjoy the poem.".
Books are humanity in print.
Books are humanity in print.
Some force whole regions, in despite
O' geography, to change their site;
Make former times shake hands read more
Some force whole regions, in despite
O' geography, to change their site;
Make former times shake hands with latter,
And that which was before come after;
But those that write in rhyme still make
The one verse for the other's sake;
For one for sense, and one for rhyme,
I think's sufficient at one time.
Everywhere I go, I'm asked if the universities stifle writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them.
Everywhere I go, I'm asked if the universities stifle writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them.
I would live to study, and not study to live.
I would live to study, and not study to live.
Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
read more
Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
By winding myrtle round your ruin'd shed?