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Love is a game-yes? I think it is a drowning.

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
Drowning
Broken
Game
Games
Heart
Love
Think
Thinking

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Even pain pricks to livelier living.
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A man must be sacrificed now and again to provide for the next generation of men.
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I shall go Up and down In my gown. Gorgeously arrayed, Boned and stayed.
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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.
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When I go away from you The world beats dead Like a slackened drum.
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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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Sexual love is the most stupendous fact of the universe, and the most magical mystery our poor blind senses know.
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How hard, how desperately hard, is the way of the experimenter in art!
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Poetry, far more than fiction, reveals the soul of humanity.
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Not a softness anywhere about me, Only whalebone and brocade.
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You are ice and fire the touch of you burns my hands like snow.
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My! ain't men blinder'n moles?
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Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin
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Poetry is the most concentrated form of literature it is the most emotionalized and powerful way in which thought can be presented.
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Happiness, to some, is elation to others it is mere stagnation.
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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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When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
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Brighter than fireflies upon the Uji River are your words in the dark, Beloved.
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Without poetry the soul and heart of man starves and dies.
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Everything mortal has moments immortal
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