Quote

Men like to pleasure us, girl. They like to undo our plaits and give us water to drink from their own mouths. That's what makes the world go round.

Federico Garcia Lorca

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Federico Garcia Lorca
Age: 38 †
Born: 1898
Born: June 5
Died: 1936
Died: August 19
Author
Drawer
Lyricist
Musician
Playwright
Poet
Theatrical Director
Madrid
Spain
García Lorca
García Lorca
Federico
G. F. Lorca
Federiḳo Garsiyah Lorḳah
Federiko Garsii︠a︡ Lorka
Federiko Garsia Lorka
Federico Carcía Lorca
Phenteriko Gkarthia Lorka
Lorka
Phederiko Gkarthia Lorka
F. García Lorca
Federico Garcia Lorca
F. G. Lorca
Frederico Garcia Lorca
Lorca
Federico Garciá Lorca
Federico del Sagrado Corazon de Je
Makes
Undo
Give
Round
Giving
Rounds
Men
Mouths
Like
Drink
World
Pleasure
Water
Girl
Plaits

More quotes by Federico Garcia Lorca

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The moon carries the masks of meningitis into bedrooms, fills the wombs of pregnant women with cold water and, as soon as I'm not careful, throws handfuls of grass on my shoulders.
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I'm satisfied. I am progressively making my life and my name in the surest and purest manner. If I catch on in the theater, as I think I will, all the doors will gladly open wide for me.
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The mirror is the mother dew, the book of desiccated twilights, echo become flesh.
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The theater has to impose itself on the public, and not the public on the theater... The word Art should be written everywhere, in the auditorium and in the dressing rooms, before the word Business gets written there.
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What's the furthest corner? Because that's where I want to be, alone with the only thing that I love.
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The dancer's trembling heart must bring everything into harmony, from the tips of her shoes to the flutter of her eyelashes, from the ruffles of her dress to the incessant play of her fingers.
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I was lucky enough to see with my own eyes the recent stock-market crash, where they lost several million dollars, a rabble of dead money that went sliding off into the sea.
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I've often lost myself, in order to find the burn that keeps everything awake
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I'm afraid to be on this shore a trunk without limbs, and what I most regret is not to have flower, pulp, or clay for the worm of my suffering.
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Life is laughter amid a rosary of death.
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Little black horse. Where are you taking your dead rider?
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Those who are afraid of death will carry it on their shoulders.
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Only mystery allows us to live, only mystery.
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What shall I say about poetry? What shall I say about those clouds, or about the sky? Look look at them look at it! And nothing more. Don't you understand anything about poetry? Leave that to the critics and the professors. For neither you, nor I, nor any poet knows what poetry is.
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My head is full of fire and grief and my tongue runs wild, pierced with shards of glass.
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If I told you the whole story it would never end...What's happened to me has happened to a thousand woman.
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There is nothing more poetic and terrible than the skyscrapers' battle with the heavens that cover them. Snow, rain, and mist highlight, drench, or conceal the vast towers, but those towers, hostile to mystery and blind to any sort of play, shear off the rain's tresses and shine their three thousand swords through the soft swan of the fog.
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The gitano is the most distinguished, profound and aristocratic element in my country, the one that most represents its Way of being and best preserves the fire, the blood and the alphabet of Andalusian and universal truth.
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I will always be on the side of those who have nothing and who are not even allowed to enjoy the nothing they have in peace.
Federico Garcia Lorca
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Green how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches.
Federico Garcia Lorca