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Poetry ... ... a place for the genuine, Hands that can grasp, eyes that can dilate, hair that can rise

Marianne Moore

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Marianne Moore
Age: 84 †
Born: 1887
Born: November 15
Died: 1972
Died: February 5
Essayist
Poet
Translator
Writer
Kirkwood
Missouri
Marianne Moore
Marianne Craig Moore
Hands
Grasp
Genuine
Rise
Poetry
Hair
Eyes
Eye
Place
Dilate

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Fanaticism? No. Writing is exciting and baseball is like writing. You can never tell with either how it will go.
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The Irish say your trouble is their trouble and your joy their joy? I wish I could believe it I am troubled, I'm dissatisfied, I'm Irish.
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Your thorns are the best part of you.
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Below the incandescent stars / below the incandescent fruit, / the strange experience of beauty / its existence is too much / it tears one to pieces / and each fresh wave of consciousness / is poison.
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Truly as the sun can rot or mend, love can make one bestial or make a beast a man.
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Writing is an undertaking for the modest.
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They fought the enemy, we fight fat living and self-pity. Shine, o shine, unfalsifying sun, on this sick scene.
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Concurring hands divide flax for damask that when bleached by Irish weather has the silvered chamois-leather water-tightness of a skin.
Marianne Moore
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The mind is an enchanting thing is an enchanted thing, like the glaze on a katydid-wing subdivided by sun till the nettings are legion.
Marianne Moore
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Excess is the common substitute for energy.
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Assign Yogi Berra to Cape Canaveral he could handle any missile.
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What I write could only be called poetry because there is no other category to put it.
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The weak overcomes its/ menace, the strong over-/comes itself.
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Sun and moon and day and night and man and beast each with a splendor which man in all his vileness cannot set aside each with an excellence!
Marianne Moore
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There never was a war that was not inward.
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I see no reason for calling my work poetry except that there is no other category in which to put it.
Marianne Moore
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the ocean, under the pulsation of lighthouses and noise of bell buoys, advances as usual, looking as if it were not that ocean in which dropped things are bound to sink-- in which if they turn and twist, it is neither with volition nor consciousness.
Marianne Moore
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The power of the visible is the invisible.
Marianne Moore
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When one is frank, one's very presence is a compliment.
Marianne Moore
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Victory won't come to me unless I go to it a grape tendril ties a knot in knots till knotted thirty times
Marianne Moore