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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
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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
Come
Knots
Grapes
Ties
Thirty
Till
Victory
Knotted
Unless
Grape
Times
Knot
More quotes by Marianne Moore
Psychology, which explains everything, Explains nothing, And we are still in doubt.
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All are / naked, none is safe.
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Dürer would have seen a reason for living in a town like this.
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There never was a war that was not inward.
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Which of us has not been stunned by the beauty of an animal's skin or its flexibility in motion?
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It is human nature to stand in the middle of a thing.
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Egotism is usually subversive of sagacity.
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When we think we don't like art it is because it is artificial art.
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Men are monopolists of stars, garters, buttons and other shining baubles- unfit to be the guardians of another person's happiness.
Marianne Moore
The hands are the heart's messengers.
Marianne Moore
The weak overcomes its/ menace, the strong over-/comes itself.
Marianne Moore
What I write could only be called poetry because there is no other category to put it.
Marianne Moore
Maine should be pleased that its animal is not a waverer, and rather than fight, lets the primed quill fall. Shallow oppressor, intruder, insister, you have found a resister.
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
I see no reason for calling my work poetry except that there is no other category in which to put it.
Marianne Moore
The prey of fear, he, always curtailed, extinguished, thwarted by the dusk, work partly done, says to the alternating blaze, Again the sun! anew each day and new and new and new, that comes into and steadies my soul.
Marianne Moore
When one is frank, one's very presence is a compliment.
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Of the crow-blue mussel shells, one keeps adjusting the ash heaps opening and shutting itself like an injured fan.
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One writes because one has a burning desire to objectify what it is indispensable to one's happiness to express.
Marianne Moore
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.
Marianne Moore