"poetry"タグの名言

truth is a friend that asks for loyalty and acceptance then it enters our hearts dissolving the boundaries freeing us from lonliness

Love is wind for the soul

Life is so beautiful and so short that anything that makes me feel less than too much is nothing at all.

My heart's scripture tastes foreign in the mouths of cowards and on the tongues of those who have never breathed in the moon and breathed out the world.

Every poet knows that the gift of the gods is not fire but language. “Man dwells poetically on this earth,” Hölderin wrote. Language is the essence of being human. We can think, thanks to language, for thought exists only by the grace of words. Our experiences and emotions are molded by language. It is language that allows us to name and know the world. We ourselves are known by language, through prayer, confession, poetry. Language gives us a world that reaches beyond the reality of the moment, to a past (there was…) and a future (there shall be…). It is through language that eternity has a space and that the dead continue to speak: “Defunctus adhuc loquitur” (Hebrews 11:4). Thanks to language, there is meaning, there is truth.

Take each day in your open palms and close your fists around it. This life is not done with you yet.

confront your greatest fears voice your biggest problems acknowledge your tiniest issues the longer you stay silent the louder they become they won't disappear if you ignore them they will spread and affect all aspects of your life

The truth, the all moving magic, the single handed spark of it all was I found art. And this saved my life.

Mathematics and poetry are the two ways to drink the beauty of truth.

Being a writer makes you immortal.

Chains chains that hold me to the ground chains that keep me solidly bound chains that tether my heart to you chains that only one truth...

In search of Truth the hopeful zealot goes, But all the sadder tums, the more he knows!

Nature is an outcry, unpolished truth; the art—a euphemism—tamed wilderness.

Spring and Fall: To a Young Child Márgarét, are you gríeving Over Goldengrove unleaving? Leáves, líke the things of man, you With your fresh thoughts care for, can you? Ah! ás the heart grows older It will come to such sights colder By and by, nor spare a sigh Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie; And yet you wíll weep and know why. Now no matter, child, the name: Sórrow's spríngs áre the same. Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed What heart heard of, ghost guessed: It ís the blight man was born for, It is Margaret you mourn for.

What seems real one moment is fiction the next and gone out of existence the moment after that. Nostalgia is the greatest enemy of truth, and change our only constancy.

Poetry is the art of uniting pleasure with truth.

There is only one thing that is more natural than thinking: breathing. 
And it is in breathing that we find the door to happiness.

THREE BASIC TRUTHS Three things have a limited threshold: Time, pain, and death. While truth, love, and knowledge – Are boundless. Three things are needed For humanity to co-exist: Truth, peace and basic needs. Everything else - Is irrelevant.

The Amorous Shepherd is a fruitless interlude, but those few poems are among the world’s greatest love poems, because they’re love poems about love, not about being poems. The poet loves because he loves, not because love exists.

he woman Caeiro fell in love with. I have no idea who she was, and I intend to never find out, not even out of curiosity. There are things of which the soul refuses to lose its ignorance. I’m perfectly aware no one’s obliged to reciprocate love, and great poets have nothing to do with being great lovers. But there’s a transcendent spite... Let her remain anonymous even to God!