Jacob wrote that the true poet ‘is like a man who is happy anywhere, in endless measure, if he is allowed to look at leaves and grass, to see the sun rise and set. The false poet travels abroad in strange countries and hopes to be uplifted by the m...
Thirsty for being, the poet ceaselessly reaches out to reality, seeking with the indefatigable harpoon of the poem a reality that is always better hidden, more re(g)al. The poem’s power is as an instrument of possession but at the same time, ineffa...
Formerly I believed books were made like this: a poet came, lightly opened his lips, and the inspired fool burst into song – if you please! But it seems, before they can launch a song, poets must tramp for days with callused feet, and the sluggish ...
This is how I recognize an authentic poet: by frequenting him, living a long time in the intimacy of his work, something changes in myself, not so much my inclinations or my tastes as my very blood, as if a subtle disease had been injected to alter i...
Who are you?” I whispered, leaning forward and reaching across the table to touch his sternly gorgeous face, almost afraid he’d disappear beneath my fingertips. “The face of an angel, the soul of a poet, and the fists of a fighter. I don’t kn...
History deals with situations and figures not imaginary but real. It demands therefore a combination of qualities unnecessary to the poet or writer of romance - glacial judgment coupled with fervent sympathy. The poet may be an uninspired illiterate,...
Let me peer out at the world through your lens. (Maybe I'll shudder, or gasp, or tilt my head in a question.) Let me see how your blue is my turquoise and my orange is your gold. Suddenly binary stars, we have startling gravity. Let's compare scintil...
Nature enhances her beauty, to the eye of loving men, from their belief that the poet is beholding her shows at the same time. He is isolated among his contemporaries by truth and by his art, but with this consolation in his pursuits, that they will ...
To be a poet in today’s technological age means to be underrated and at times, ignored. In a world where the noise of industry reigns supreme, the poet’s voice is being drowned out, but it is a voice that is desperately needed. Our words ring out...
John Keating: Now we all have a great need for acceptance, but you must trust that your beliefs are unique, your own, even though others may think them odd or unpopular, even though the herd may go, [imitating a goat] John Keating: "that's baaaaad." ...
Todd Anderson: Mr. Keating! They made everybody sign it. Nolan: Quiet, Mr. Anderson. Todd Anderson: You gotta believe me. It's true. John Keating: I do believe you, Todd. Nolan: Leave, Mr. Keating. Todd Anderson: But it wasn't his fault! Nolan: Sit d...
Poets can dodge. ("Evening Primrose")
A Poet never denies creativity entrance.
Be a poet in action as well as in words.
Cities are built out of poet's dreams.
My dad wanted to name me after Rainier Maria Rilke, the poet.
But are not the dreams of poets and the tales of travellers notoriously false?
God is the perfect poet.
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.
Money is everywhere but so is poetry. What we lack are the poets.
The bad poet is a toady mimicking nature.
