Quotes of: Poem Keyword

I love the silent hour of night, For blissful dreams may then arise, Revealing to my charmed sight What may not bless my waking eyes.

Best Poems of the Brontë Sisters

The point of racism is to dehumanize those targeted by the racism. Violence as a reaction to injustice provides ammunition to racists.

Black In America: Essays and Poems about Racism in America on The 50th Anniversary of The March on Selma.

Gardens are poems Where you stroll with your hands in your pockets. (Les jardins sont des poemes Ou l'on se promene les mains dans les poches.)

The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology

We are creatures of rage and madness and bitter tears and we knew that from the start. Our end was disaster and we knew that from the start. We knew it all from the start.

1000 Quotable Poems; An Anthology Of Modern Verse

Life is not all about only sex, just try once to control this disaster, you may turn out to be a religious worshiper or prophet, but everything fails when you see naked women in your bed.

25 Sexy Poems

Home is where the heart is, home is where the fart is. Come let us fart in the home. There is no art in a fart. Still a fart may not be artless. Let us fart and artless fart in the home.

88 Poems

The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want him for long He maketh me to lie down in green pastures and there are no green pastures He leadeth me beside still waters and still waters run deep

88 Poems

Just because I am queer doesn't mean I am queer for you

The Songs of The Gullible Wiseman: The Early Poems of Maddy Kobar, 2008-2013

Here they have no time for the fine graces of poetry, unless it freely grows in deep compulsion, like water in the well, woven into the texture of the soil in a strong pattern.

New Collected Poems: Iain Crichton Smith

I will hide my heart in your heart and you will hide your heart in my heart; and no evil eye will hear it, our common heart, as familiar, in unison, it throbs to the world.

Love Poems: Love Conquers All

They say: 'If a man knew himself, he would know all mankind.' I say: 'If a man loved mankind, he would know something of himself.

Love Letters in the Sand: The Love Poems of Khalil Gibran

Pride is instilled. It's what we carry with us every day of our lives.

Letters to My Daughter: A Collection of Short Stories and Poems about Love, Pride, and Identity

I sleep with thee, and wake with thee, And yet thou are not there; I fill my arms with thoughts of thee, And press the common air.

The Later Poems, 1837-1864: Volumes I and II

My Beloved Know that my beloved in hidden from everyone Know that she is beyond the belief of all beliefs Know that in my heart she is as clear as the moon Know that she is the life in my body and in my soul

The Love Poems Of Rumi

You are the source of the sun. And I am the willow's shadow. Oh, you have struck me on the head, Wretch that I am, on fire am I.

Love: The Joy That Wounds: The Love Poems of Rumi

Bitter your acts, bitter am I, Kindness your deeds, kindness am I, Pleasant and gentle, so you are, Fine honeyed lips and sweet talker.

Love: The Joy That Wounds: The Love Poems of Rumi

I am no longer in love with her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

Love, like everything else, exists in a spectrum. Love of another, love of the world, love of God, all these loves are really one love in different degrees of light and density.

Ten Poems to Open Your Heart

The final belief is to believe in a fiction, which you know to be a fiction, there being nothing else. The exquisite truth is to know that it is a fiction and that you believe in it willingly.

Opus Posthumous: Poems, Plays, Prose

Hatred of oppression still distorts the features, Anger at injustice still makes voices raised and ugly. Oh we, who wished to lay for the foundations for peace and friendliness, Could never be friendly ourselves.

Poems 1913-1956

There's in my mind a... turbulent moon-ridden girl or old woman, or both, dressed in opals and rags, feathers and torn taffeta, who knows strange songs but she is not kind.

Poems, 1972-1982