Quote

A black cat among roses, phlox, lilac-misted under a quarter moon, the sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock. The garden is very still. It is dazed with moonlight, contented with perfume.

Amy Lowell

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Amy Lowell
Age: 51 †
Born: 1874
Born: February 9
Died: 1925
Died: May 12
Poet
Socialite
Writer
Brookline
Massachusetts
Amy Lawrence Lowell
Among
Perfume
Scented
Sweet
Quarters
Lilac
Black
Stock
Dazed
Night
Cat
Contented
Stills
Smell
Smells
Still
Rose
Moonlight
Garden
Quarter
Moon
Roses

More quotes by Amy Lowell

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I know that a creed is the shell of a lie.
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Can you see through the night, woman, that you stare so upon it? Man, what sparks do your eyes follow in the smouldering darkness?
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To understand Vers libre, one must abandon all desire to find in it the even rhythm of metrical feet. One must allow the lines to flow as they will when read aloud by an intelligent reader.
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How hard, how desperately hard, is the way of the experimenter in art!
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How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty, and one is alone!
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Lilacs, False Blue, White, Purple, Colour of lilac, Your great puffs of flowers Are everywhere in this my New England ... Lilacs in dooryards Holding quiet conversation with an early moon Lilacs watching a deserted house ... Lilacs, wind-beaten, staggering under a lopsided shock of bloom, You are everywhere.
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Love is a game-yes? I think it is a drowning.
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Without poetry the soul and heart of man starves and dies.
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Polyphonic prose is a kind of free verse, except that it is still freer. Polyphonic makes full use of cadence, rime, alliteration, assonance.
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Youth condemns maturity condones
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May is much sunshine through small leaves.
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Don’t ask a writer what he’s working on. It’s like asking someone with cancer on the progress of his disease.
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Poets are always the advance guard of literature the advance guard of life. It is for this reason that their recognition comes so slowly.
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A man must be sacrificed now and again to provide for the next generation of men.
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If what we worship fail us, still the fire burns on, and it is much to have believed.
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Time! Joyless emblem of the greed of millions, robber of the best which earth can give.
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When trying to explain anything, I usually find that the Bible, that great collection of magnificent and varied poetry, has said it before in the best possible way.
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Happiness, to some, is elation to others it is mere stagnation.
Amy Lowell
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Guarded within the old red wall's embrace, Marshalled like soldiers in gay company, The tulips stand arrayed. Here infantry Wheels out into the sunlight.
Amy Lowell
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Poetry, far more than fiction, reveals the soul of humanity.
Amy Lowell