Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.

Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.

I experience a period of frightening clarity in those moments when nature is so beautiful. I am no longer sure read more

I experience a period of frightening clarity in those moments when nature is so beautiful. I am no longer sure of myself, and the paintings appear as in a dream

The only good copies are those which exhibit the defects of bad
originals.

The only good copies are those which exhibit the defects of bad
originals.

Only when he no longer knows what he is doing does the painter do good things

Only when he no longer knows what he is doing does the painter do good things

Are we to paint what's on the face, what's inside the face, or what's behind it?

Are we to paint what's on the face, what's inside the face, or what's behind it?

Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

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?

In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.

In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.