Quote

My soul is now her day, my day her night, So I lie down, and so I rise.

Karl Shapiro

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Karl Shapiro
Age: 86 †
Born: 1913
Born: November 10
Died: 2000
Died: May 14
Consultant
Editor
Literary Critic
Poet
Baltimore
Maryland
Karl Jay Shapiro
Carl Shapiro
Night
Soul
Rise
Lying

More quotes by Karl Shapiro

Image
To make the child in your own image is a capital crime, for your image is not worth repeating. The child knows this and you know it. Consequently you hate each other.
Karl Shapiro
Image
Already old, the question Who shall die? Becomes unspoken Who is innocent?
Karl Shapiro
Image
The modern essay has regained a good deal of its literary status in our time, much to the credit of Joseph Epstein.
Karl Shapiro
Image
Haul up the flag, you mourners, Not half-mast but all the way The funeral is done and disbanded The devil's had the final say.
Karl Shapiro
Image
Poets of course are even more unpredictable than other writers, overwhelmed as they are by the moment they inhabit and finding it difficult to connect yesterday with tomorrow.
Karl Shapiro
Image
Poetry is not a way of saying things it's a way of seeing things.
Karl Shapiro
Image
Leo Connellan has retained his soul and voice in Provincetown and Other Poems.
Karl Shapiro
Image
How something important happens is the business of historians and newspapers, the effect it has is the business of philosophers and writers and especially poets.
Karl Shapiro
Image
But with exquisite breathing you smile, with satisfaction of love, And I touch you again as you tick in the silence and settle in sleep.
Karl Shapiro
Image
Laughter and grief join hands. Always the heart Clumps in the breast with heavy stride The face grows lined and wrinkled like a chart, The eyes bloodshot with tears and tide. Let the wind blow, for many a man shall die.
Karl Shapiro
Image
The good poet sticks to his real loves, to see within the realm of possibility. He never tries to hold hands with God or the human race.
Karl Shapiro
Image
Poetry is innocent, not wise. It does not learn from experience, because each poetic experience is unique.
Karl Shapiro