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Poetry Quotes

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Poets are all who love and feel great truths, and tell them.

Poets are never young, in one sense. Their delicate ear hears the far-off whispers of eternity, which coarser souls must travel towards for scores of years before their dull sense is touched by them. A moment's insight is sometimes worth a life's experience.

Poets are soldiers that liberate words from the steadfast possession of definition.

Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.

Poets utter great and wise things which they do not themselves understand.

Publishing a volume of verse is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo.

Sad is his lot, who, once at least in his life, has not been a poet.

Science sees signs; Poetry the thing signified. See quote detail

Some scrap of a childish song hath often been a truer alms than all the benevolent societies could give. This is the best missionary, knowing when she may knock at the door of the most curmudgeonly hearts, without being turned away unheard. For poesy is love's chosen apostle, and the very almoner of God. She is the home of the outcast, and the wealth of the needy.

Superstition is the poetry of life. It is inherent in man's nature; and when we think it is wholly eradicated, it takes refuge in the strangest holes and corners, whence it peeps out all at once, as soon, as it can do it with safety.

The greatest poem is not that which is most skillfully constructed, but that in which there is the most poetry.

The office of poetry is not to make us think accurately, but feel truly.

The poem is a little myth of man's capacity of making life meaningful. And in the end, the poem is not a thing we see-it is, rather, a light by which we may see-and what we see is life.

The poem is the point at which our strength gave out.

The poet doesn't invent. He listens.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth.

The poet may be used as a barometer, but let us not forget that he is also part of the weather.

The poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; and, as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet's pen turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name.

The poet, whether in prose or verse, the creator, can only stamp his images forcibly on the page, in proportion as he has forcibly felt, ardently nursed, and long brooded over them.

The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.

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