Quote

Youth condemns maturity condones

Amy Lowell

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Amy Lowell
Age: 51 †
Born: 1874
Born: February 9
Died: 1925
Died: May 12
Poet
Socialite
Writer
Brookline
Massachusetts
Amy Lawrence Lowell
Condones
Condemns
Maturity
Youth

More quotes by Amy Lowell

Image
Rapture's self is three parts sorrow.
Amy Lowell
Image
Witches are moon-birds, Witches are the women of the false, beautiful moon.
Amy Lowell
Image
May is much sunshine through small leaves.
Amy Lowell
Image
Freighted with hope, Crimsoned with joy, We scatter the leaves of our opening rose.
Amy Lowell
Image
Time! Joyless emblem of the greed of millions, robber of the best which earth can give.
Amy Lowell
Image
So with the stretch of the white road before me, Shining snow crystals rainbowed by the sun, Fields that are white, stained with long, cool, blue shadows, Strong with the strength of my horse as we run. Joy in the touch of the wind and the sunlight! Joy! With the vigorous earth I am one.
Amy Lowell
Image
Oh! To be a flower Nodding in the sun, Bending, then upspringing As the breezes run.
Amy Lowell
Image
Only those of our poets who kept solidly to the Shakespearean tradition achieved any measure of success. But Keats was the last great exponent of that tradition, and we all know how thin, how lacking in charm, the copies of Keats have become.
Amy Lowell
Image
If what we worship fail us, still the fire burns on, and it is much to have believed.
Amy Lowell
Image
In my stiff, brocaded gown. With my powdered hair and jeweled fan, I too am a rare Pattern.
Amy Lowell
Image
A man must be sacrificed now and again to provide for the next generation of men.
Amy Lowell
Image
Everything mortal has moments immortal
Amy Lowell
Image
Happiness, to some, is elation to others it is mere stagnation.
Amy Lowell
Image
This is war: Boys flung into a breach Like shoveled earth And old men, Broken, Driving rapidly before crowds of people In a glitter of silly decorations. Behind the boys And the old men, Life weeps, And shreds her garments To the blowing winds.
Amy Lowell
Image
You are ice and fire the touch of you burns my hands like snow.
Amy Lowell
Image
Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin
Amy Lowell
Image
When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Amy Lowell
Image
Art is the desire of a man to express himself, to record the reactions of his personality to the world he lives in.
Amy Lowell
Image
Hate is ravening vulture beaks descending on a place of skulls.
Amy Lowell
Image
When I go away from you The world beats dead Like a slackened drum.
Amy Lowell