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Happiness, to some, elation Is, to others, mere stagnation.

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
Elation
Stagnation
Mere
Happiness
Others

More quotes by Amy Lowell

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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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Youth condemns maturity condones
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Fifteen millions of soldiers with popguns and horses All bent upon killing, because their of courses Are not quite the same.
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My heart is tuned to sorrow, and the strings Vibrate most readily to minor chords, Searching and sad my mind is stuffed with words Which voice the passion and the ache of things: Illusions beating with their baffled wings Against the walls of circumstance.
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A man must be sacrificed now and again to provide for the next generation of men.
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Rapture's self is three parts sorrow.
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Art is like politics. Any theory carried too far ends in sterility, and freshness is only gained by following some other line.
Amy Lowell
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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
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Hate is ravening vulture beaks descending on a place of skulls.
Amy Lowell
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I never deny poems when they come whatever I am doing, whatever I am writing, I lay it aside and attend to the arriving poem.
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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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
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Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart.
Amy Lowell
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My words are little jars For you to take and put upon a shelf. Their shapes are quaint and beautiful, And they have many pleasant colours and lustres To recommend them. Also the scent from them fills the room With sweetness of flowers and crushed grasses.
Amy Lowell
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When I go away from you The world beats dead Like a slackened drum.
Amy Lowell
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Witches are moon-birds, Witches are the women of the false, beautiful moon.
Amy Lowell
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Happiness: We rarely feel it. I would buy it, beg it, steal it, Pay in coins of dripping blood For this one transcendent good.
Amy Lowell
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Without poetry the soul and heart of man starves and dies.
Amy Lowell
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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.
Amy Lowell
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Not a softness anywhere about me, Only whalebone and brocade.
Amy Lowell