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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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Amy Lowell
Age: 51 †
Born: 1874
Born: February 9
Died: 1925
Died: May 12
Poet
Socialite
Writer
Brookline
Massachusetts
Amy Lawrence Lowell
Petal
Petals
Stream
Streams
Flower
Heart
Life
Strew
More quotes by Amy Lowell
Without poetry the soul and heart of man starves and dies.
Amy Lowell
Youth condemns maturity condones
Amy Lowell
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
How much more beautiful is the moon, Slanting down the gauffered branches of a plum-tree The moon Wavering across a bed of tulips The moon, Still, Upon your face. You shine, Beloved, You and the moon. But which is the reflection?
Amy Lowell
My! ain't men blinder'n moles?
Amy Lowell
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
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
Oh! To be a butterfly Still, upon a flower, Winking with its painted wings, Happy in the hour.
Amy Lowell
Even pain pricks to livelier living.
Amy Lowell
Poetry is the most concentrated form of literature it is the most emotionalized and powerful way in which thought can be presented.
Amy Lowell
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
Hate is ravening vulture beaks descending on a place of skulls.
Amy Lowell
To-night when the full-bellied moon swallows the stars. Grant that I know.
Amy Lowell
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.
Amy Lowell
How hard, how desperately hard, is the way of the experimenter in art!
Amy Lowell
Witches are moon-birds, Witches are the women of the false, beautiful moon.
Amy Lowell
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
Freighted with hope, Crimsoned with joy, We scatter the leaves of our opening rose.
Amy Lowell
Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin
Amy Lowell
Love is a game-yes? I think it is a drowning.
Amy Lowell