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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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Amy Lowell
Age: 51 †
Born: 1874
Born: February 9
Died: 1925
Died: May 12
Poet
Socialite
Writer
Brookline
Massachusetts
Amy Lawrence Lowell
Happiness
Dripping
Feel
Transcendent
Feels
Coins
Good
Steal
Would
Stealing
Rarely
Pay
Blood

More quotes by Amy Lowell

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On the neck of the young man sparkles no gem so gracious as enterprise. Youth condemns maturity condones.
Amy Lowell
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I know that a creed is the shell of a lie.
Amy Lowell
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Now you are come! You tremble like a star Poised where, behind earth's rim, the sun has set. Your voice has sung across my heart, but numb And mute, I have no tones to answer.
Amy Lowell
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Great emotion always tends to become rhythmic, and out of that tendency the forms of art have been evolved. Art becomes artificial only when the forms take precedence over the emotion.
Amy Lowell
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You are ice and fire the touch of you burns my hands like snow.
Amy Lowell
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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.
Amy Lowell
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This is America, This vast, confused beauty, This staring, restless speed of loveliness, Mighty, overwhelming, crude, of all forms, Making grandeur out of profusion, Afraid of no incongruities, Sublime in its audacity, Bizarre breaker of moulds.
Amy Lowell
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I should like to bring a case to trial: Prosperity versus Beauty, Cash registers teetering in a balance against the comfort of the soul.
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.
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Poetry, far more than fiction, reveals the soul of humanity.
Amy Lowell
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How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty, and one is alone!
Amy Lowell
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Time! Joyless emblem of the greed of millions, robber of the best which earth can give.
Amy Lowell
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Oh! To be a butterfly Still, upon a flower, Winking with its painted wings, Happy in the hour.
Amy Lowell
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All recurring joy is pain refined.
Amy Lowell
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Not a softness anywhere about me, Only whalebone and brocade.
Amy Lowell
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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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Poets are always the advance guard of literature the advance guard of life. It is for this reason that their recognition comes so slowly.
Amy Lowell
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Brighter than fireflies upon the Uji River are your words in the dark, Beloved.
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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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