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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.

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
Literature
Powerful
Form
Thought
Way
Concentrated
Presented

More quotes by Amy Lowell

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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
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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
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How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty, and one is alone!
Amy Lowell
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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.
Amy Lowell
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A black cat among roses, phlox, lilac-misted under a quarter moon, the sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock. The garden is very still. It is dazed with moonlight, contented with perfume.
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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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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Rapture's self is three parts sorrow.
Amy Lowell
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You are ice and fire the touch of you burns my hands like snow.
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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I know that a creed is the shell of a lie.
Amy Lowell
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Time! Joyless emblem of the greed of millions, robber of the best which earth can give.
Amy Lowell
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A man must be sacrificed now and again to provide for the next generation of men.
Amy Lowell
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On the neck of the young man sparkles no gem so gracious as enterprise. Youth condemns maturity condones.
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
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Without poetry the soul and heart of man starves and dies.
Amy Lowell
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Fifteen millions of soldiers with popguns and horses All bent upon killing, because their of courses Are not quite the same.
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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Love is a game-yes? I think it is a drowning.
Amy Lowell
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Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart.
Amy Lowell