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I could not accept from wisdom what love taught, woman is perfect.

Hilda Doolittle

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Hilda Doolittle
Woman
Women
Love
Accept
Accepting
Taught
Wisdom
Perfect

More quotes by Hilda Doolittle

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For you are abstract, making no mistake, slurring no word in the rhythm you make, the poem, writ in the air.
Hilda Doolittle
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War wreaked on you his hideous ravishment We, we alone, Nereids inviolate, Remain to weep, with the sea-birds to chant: Corinth is lost, Corinth is desolate.
Hilda Doolittle
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I will be free, no lover's kiss to bind me to earth, no bliss of love to counteract actual bliss.
Hilda Doolittle
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No poetic phantasy but a biological reality, a fact: I am an entity like bird, insect, plant or sea-plant cell I live I am alive.
Hilda Doolittle
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In my garden the winds have beaten the ripe lilies in my garden, the salt has wilted the first flakes of young narcissus.
Hilda Doolittle
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Words were her plague and words were her redemption.
Hilda Doolittle
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Love, why have you sought the horde of spearsmen, why the tent Achilles pitched beside the river-ford?
Hilda Doolittle
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Lovers may come and go, there was the memory of blood, the low call.
Hilda Doolittle
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I fear no man, no woman flower does not fear bird, insect nor adder.
Hilda Doolittle
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Not God with wine, nor death, nor hate for a cry, but God with a song
Hilda Doolittle
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The elixir of life, the philosopher's stone is yours if you surrender sterile logic, trivial reason.
Hilda Doolittle
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Luminous, unfearful high-priestesses, our fervour shall banish all evil.
Hilda Doolittle
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I myself have seen the floating ships And nothing will ever be the same The shouts, The harrowing voices within the house. I stand apart with an army: My mind is graven with ships.
Hilda Doolittle
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Love has no charm when Love is swept to earth: you'd make a lop-winged god, frozen and contrite, of god up-darting, winged for passionate flight.
Hilda Doolittle
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Passionate grave thought, belief enhanced, ritual returned and magic.
Hilda Doolittle
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There's a black rose growing in your garden.
Hilda Doolittle
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Dance until the earth dance.
Hilda Doolittle
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Until it seems the whole city will be covered with gold pollen shaken from the bell-towers, lilies plundered with the weight of massive bees . . .
Hilda Doolittle
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Ardent yet chill and formal, how I ache to tempt a chisel as a sculptor.
Hilda Doolittle
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Love is a garment riven in the light that rises from Parnassus, showing the night is over.
Hilda Doolittle