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Dürer would have seen a reason for living in a town like this.
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
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Town
Towns
Seen
Living
Reason
Would
Life
More quotes by Marianne Moore
Impatience is the mark of independence, not of bondage.
Marianne Moore
As for butterflies, I can hardly conceive of one's attending upon you but to question the congruence of the complement is vain, if it exists.
Marianne Moore
Omissions are not accidents.
Marianne Moore
Concurring hands divide flax for damask that when bleached by Irish weather has the silvered chamois-leather water-tightness of a skin.
Marianne Moore
... imaginary gardens with real toads in them ... ... if you demand on one hand, the raw material of poetry in all its rawness and that which is on the other hand genuine, then you are interested in poetry.
Marianne Moore
Poetry is a peerless proficiency of the imagination.
Marianne Moore
Men are monopolists of stars, garters, buttons and other shining baubles- unfit to be the guardians of another person's happiness.
Marianne Moore
that which is impossible to force, it is impossible to hinder.
Marianne Moore
What is our innocence, What is our guilt? All are naked, none is safe.
Marianne Moore
There never was a war that was not inward.
Marianne Moore
We are what we were at birth, and each trait has remained in conformity with earth's and with heaven's logic: Be the devil's tool, resort to black magic, None can diverge from the ends which Heaven foreordained.
Marianne Moore
Your thorns are the best part of you.
Marianne Moore
Blessed the geniuses who know / that egomania is not a duty.
Marianne Moore
Writing is an undertaking for the modest.
Marianne Moore
The heart that gives, gathers.
Marianne Moore
Honesty - however dangerous - should be as valuable as radium it seems to me.
Marianne Moore
All are / naked, none is safe.
Marianne Moore
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
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.
Marianne Moore
What I write could only be called poetry because there is no other category to put it.
Marianne Moore