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I don't think I write well - just better than anyone else.

Philip Larkin

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Philip Larkin
Age: 63 †
Born: 1922
Born: August 9
Died: 1985
Died: December 2
Critic
Journalist
Librarian
Music Critic
Music Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Coventry
England
UK
Philip Arthur Larkin
Well
Writing
Think
Thinking
Anyone
Write
Else
Better
Wells

More quotes by Philip Larkin

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Life and literature is a question of what one thrills to, and further than that no man shall ever go without putting his foot in a turd.
Philip Larkin
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You can look out of your life like a train & see what you're heading for, but you can't stop the train.
Philip Larkin
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Still, vicious or virtuous, Love suits most of us.
Philip Larkin
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He married a woman to stop her getting away Now she's there all day.
Philip Larkin
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Clearly money has something to do with life.
Philip Larkin
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I am awakened each dawn Increasingly to fear.
Philip Larkin
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Life is first boredom, then fear.
Philip Larkin
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I think a young poet, or an old poet, for that matter, should try to produce something that pleases himself personally, not only when he's written it but a couple of weeks later. Then he should see if it pleases anyone else, by sending it to the kind of magazine he likes reading.
Philip Larkin
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On me your voice falls as they say love should, Like an enormous yes.
Philip Larkin
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As a child, I thought I hated everybody, but when I grew up I realized it was just children I didn't like.
Philip Larkin
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I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.
Philip Larkin
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I never think of poetry or the poetry scene, only separate poems written by individuals.
Philip Larkin
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SEX is designed for people who like overcoming obstacles.
Philip Larkin
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Get stewed:Books are a load of crap.
Philip Larkin
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Life has a practice of living you, if you don't live it.
Philip Larkin
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Spring, of all seasons most gratuitous, Is fold of untaught flower, is race of water, Is earth's most multiple, excited daughter And those she has least use for see her best, Their paths grown craven and circuitous, Their visions mountain-clear, their needs immodest.
Philip Larkin
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Here silence stands Like heat. Here leaves unnoticed thicken, Hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken, Luminously-peopled air ascends And past the poppies bluish neutral distance Ends the land suddenly beyond a beach Of shapes and shingle. Here is unfenced existence: Facing the sun, untalkative, out of reach.
Philip Larkin
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In everyone there sleeps. A sense of life lived according to love. To some it means the difference they could make. By loving others, but across most it sweeps. As all they might have done had they been loved. That nothing cures.
Philip Larkin
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To write you must be warm, fed, loved and sober.
Philip Larkin
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What are days for? Days are where we live.
Philip Larkin