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Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin

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
Women
Basin
Gown
Gowns
Bathing
Softness
Marble
Underneath
Woman
Stiffened

More quotes by Amy Lowell

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When I go away from you The world beats dead Like a slackened drum.
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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Love is a game-yes? I think it is a drowning.
Amy Lowell
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If what we worship fail us, still the fire burns on, and it is much to have believed.
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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.
Amy Lowell
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Without poetry the soul and heart of man starves and dies.
Amy Lowell
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In my stiff, brocaded gown. With my powdered hair and jeweled fan, I too am a rare Pattern.
Amy Lowell
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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.
Amy Lowell
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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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I should like to bring a case to trial: Prosperity versus Beauty, Cash registers teetering in a balance against the comfort of the soul.
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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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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My! ain't men blinder'n moles?
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How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty, and one is alone!
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Hate is ravening vulture beaks descending on a place of skulls.
Amy Lowell
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Happiness, to some, elation Is, to others, mere stagnation.
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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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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May is much sunshine through small leaves.
Amy Lowell
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Moon! Moon! I am prone before you. Pity me,and drench me in loneliness.
Amy Lowell