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What was I saying? An Egyptian king Once touched long fingers, which are not anything.
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
Long
Egyptian
Twilight
Touched
King
Fingers
Kings
Saying
Anything
More quotes by Allen Tate
The idiot greens the meadow with his eyes, The meadow creeps implacable and still A dog barks, the hammock swings, he lies. One two three the cows bulge on the hill.
Allen Tate
So face with calm that heritage And earn contempt before the age.
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
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
The only real evidence that any critic may bring before his gaze is the finished poem.
Allen Tate
Ah, Christ, I love you rings to the wild sky And I must think a little of the past: When I was ten I told a stinking lie That got a black boy whipped.
Allen Tate
Experience means conflict, our natures being what they are, and conflict means drama.
Allen Tate
Religion is the sole technique for the validating of values.
Allen Tate
Row after row with strict impunity The headstones yield their names to the element, The wind whirrs without recollection.
Allen Tate
All the sea-gods are dead. You, Venus, come home To your salt maidenhead.
Allen Tate
Punctilious abyss, the yawn of space Come once a day to suffocate the sight.
Allen Tate
The torrent of the reaching shade Broke shadow into all its parts, What then had been of shadow made Found exigence in fits and starts.
Allen Tate
I believe the term modulation denotes in music the uninterrupted shift from one key to another: I do not know the term for change of rhythm without change of measure.
Allen Tate
A poem may be an instance of morality, of social conditions, of psychological history it may instance all its qualities, but never one of them alone, nor any two or three never less than all.
Allen Tate
What is the flesh and blood compounded ofBut a few moments in the life of time?This prowling of the cells, litigious love,Wears the long claw of flesh-arguing crime.
Allen Tate
Swimmer of noonday, lean for the perfect dive To the dead Mother's face, whose subtile down You had not seen take amber light alive.
Allen Tate
My darling boy whom I shall never know, My son, I love you in my deepest fears.
Allen Tate
The day's at end and there's nowhere to go, Draw to the fire, even this fire is dying Get up and once again politely lying Invite the ladies toward the mistletoe.
Allen Tate
I am not ridiculing verbal mechanisms, dreams, or repressions as origins of poetry all three of them and more besides may have a great deal to do with it.
Allen Tate