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Sexual love is the most stupendous fact of the universe, and the most magical mystery our poor blind senses know.

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
Facts
Magical
Love
Sexual
Senses
Blind
Mystery
Poor
Fact
Universe
Stupendous

More quotes by Amy Lowell

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When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Amy Lowell
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In my stiff, brocaded gown. With my powdered hair and jeweled fan, I too am a rare Pattern.
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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Happiness, to some, is elation to others it is mere stagnation.
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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How hard, how desperately hard, is the way of the experimenter in art!
Amy Lowell
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Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin, A basin in the midst of hedges grown So thick, she cannot see her lover hiding, But she guesses he is near, And the sliding of the water Seems the stroking of a dear Hand upon her.
Amy Lowell
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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.
Amy Lowell
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Love is a game-yes? I think it is a drowning.
Amy Lowell
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Oh! To be a flower Nodding in the sun, Bending, then upspringing As the breezes run.
Amy Lowell
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Youth condemns maturity condones
Amy Lowell
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I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you of squeezing it into little inkdrops, And posting it.
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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Brighter than fireflies upon the Uji River are your words in the dark, Beloved.
Amy Lowell
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Happiness, to some, elation Is, to others, mere stagnation.
Amy Lowell
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Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin
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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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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Not a softness anywhere about me, Only whalebone and brocade.
Amy Lowell
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I must be mad, or very tired, When the curve of a blue bay beyond a railroad track Is shrill and sweet to me like the sudden springing of a tune, And the sight of a white church above thin trees in a city square Amazes my eyes as though it were the Parthenon.
Amy Lowell