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How hard, how desperately hard, is the way of the experimenter in art!

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
Hard
Way
Experimenter
Desperately
Art

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.
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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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You are ice and fire the touch of you burns my hands like snow.
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Poetry, far more than fiction, reveals the soul of humanity.
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Hate is ravening vulture beaks descending on a place of skulls.
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Happiness, to some, elation Is, to others, mere stagnation.
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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.
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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.
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To-night when the full-bellied moon swallows the stars. Grant that I know.
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My! ain't men blinder'n moles?
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Time! Joyless emblem of the greed of millions, robber of the best which earth can give.
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I know that a creed is the shell of a lie.
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Can you see through the night, woman, that you stare so upon it? Man, what sparks do your eyes follow in the smouldering darkness?
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Rapture's self is three parts sorrow.
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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.
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Brighter than fireflies upon the Uji River are your words in the dark, Beloved.
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.
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Even pain pricks to livelier living.
Amy Lowell
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Everything mortal has moments immortal
Amy Lowell
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Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart.
Amy Lowell