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The innocent mansion of a panther's heart!
Allen Tate
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Allen Tate
Age: 79 †
Born: 1899
Born: November 19
Died: 1979
Died: February 9
Author
Literary Critic
Poet
University Teacher
Writer
Winchester
Kentucky
John Orley Allen Tate
Innocent
Heart
Panther
Panthers
Mansion
Mansions
Innocence
More quotes by Allen Tate
Peering, I heard the hooves come down the hill. The posse passed, twelve horse the leader's face Was worn as limestone on an ancient sill.
Allen Tate
Experience means conflict, our natures being what they are, and conflict means drama.
Allen Tate
The poet is he who fights on the passionate Side and whoever loses he wins when he Is defeated it is hard to say who wins.
Allen Tate
What is the poem, after it is written? That is the question. Not where it came from or why.
Allen Tate
There is probably nothing wrong with art for art's sake if we take the phrase seriously, and not take it to mean the kind of poetry written in England forty years ago.
Allen Tate
There's precious little to say between day and dark, Perhaps a few words on the implacable will Of time sailing like a magic barque Or something as fine for the amenities.
Allen Tate
At twelve I was determined to shoot only For honor at twenty not to shoot at all I know at thirty-three that one must shoot As often as one gets the rare chance - In killing there is more than commentary.
Allen Tate
Our loss put six feet under ground Is measured by the magnolia's root Our gain's the intellectual sound Of death's feet round a weedy tomb.
Allen Tate
In an age of abstract experience, fornication Is self-expression, adjunct to Christian euphoria, And whores become delinquents delinquents, patients Patients, wards of society. Whores, by that rule, Are precious.
Allen Tate
I thought I heard the dark pounding its head On a rock, crying: Who are the dead?
Allen Tate
Yevgeny Yevtushenko is a ham actor, not a poet.
Allen Tate
Other psychological theories say a good deal about compensation.
Allen Tate
Poets, in their way, are practical men they are interested in results.
Allen Tate
In the cold morning the rested street stands up To greet the clerk who saunters down the world.
Allen Tate
Men expect too much, do too little.
Allen Tate
Row after row with strict impunity The headstones yield their names to the element, The wind whirrs without recollection.
Allen Tate
For some reason most critics have a hard time fixing their minds directly under their noses, and before they see the object that is there they use a telescope upon the horizon to see where it came from.
Allen Tate
Punctilious abyss, the yawn of space Come once a day to suffocate the sight.
Allen Tate
Dark accurate plunger down the successive knell Of arch on arch, where ogives burst a red Reverberance of hail upon the dead Thunder like an exploding crucible!
Allen Tate
Last night I fled until I came To streets where leaking casements dripped Stale lamplight from the corpse of flame A nervous window bled.
Allen Tate