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Poetry, far more than fiction, reveals the soul of humanity.
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
Poetry
Fiction
Humanity
Soul
Reveals
More quotes by Amy Lowell
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
I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you of squeezing it into little inkdrops, And posting it.
Amy Lowell
May is much sunshine through small leaves.
Amy Lowell
When I go away from you The world beats dead Like a slackened drum.
Amy Lowell
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
My! ain't men blinder'n moles?
Amy Lowell
You are ice and fire the touch of you burns my hands like snow.
Amy Lowell
This is war: Boys flung into a breach Like shoveled earth And old men, Broken, Driving rapidly before crowds of people In a glitter of silly decorations. Behind the boys And the old men, Life weeps, And shreds her garments To the blowing winds.
Amy Lowell
Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart.
Amy Lowell
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
When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
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
Brighter than fireflies upon the Uji River are your words in the dark, Beloved.
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
Sexual love is the most stupendous fact of the universe, and the most magical mystery our poor blind senses know.
Amy Lowell
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
How hard, how desperately hard, is the way of the experimenter in art!
Amy Lowell
If what we worship fail us, still the fire burns on, and it is much to have believed.
Amy Lowell
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
Hate is ravening vulture beaks descending on a place of skulls.
Amy Lowell