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Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.
Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.
The poet... may be used as a barometer, but let us not forget that he is also part of the read more
The poet... may be used as a barometer, but let us not forget that he is also part of the weather.
A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his read more
A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.
For florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.
For florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.
Poetry is itself a thing of God;
He made his prophets poets;and the more
We feel of read more
Poetry is itself a thing of God;
He made his prophets poets;and the more
We feel of poesie do we become
Like God in love and power,--under-makers.
When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, read more
When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.
Poetry is truth dwelling in beauty.
Poetry is truth dwelling in beauty.
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, read more
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.
When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
read more
When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
When the mind (like a beard) has a "formal cut,"--
There is a place and enough for the pains of prose;
But whenever the May-blood stires and glows,
And the young year draws to the "golden prime,"
And Sir Romeo sticks in his ear a rose,--
Then hey! for the ripple of laughing rhyme!