Quote

Life is first boredom, then fear. Whether or not we use it, it goes, And leaves what something hidden from us chose, And age, and then the only end of age.

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
Use
Chose
Fear
Boredom
Ends
Hidden
Firsts
Aging
First
Leaves
Something
Goes
Life
Age
Whether

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I have wished you something None of the others would.
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Joy Is for the simple or the great to feel, Neither of which we are.
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Life is first boredom, then fear.
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Why should I let the toad work Squat on my life? Can't I use my wit as a pitchfork And drive the brute off? Six days of the week it soils With its sickening poison-- Just for paying a few bills! That's out of proportion.
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The chromatic scale is what you use to give the effect of drinking a quinine martini and having an enema simultaneously.
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Home is so sad. It stays as it was left, / Shaped to the comfort of the last to go / As if to win them back
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Any memory for the most part depending on chance.
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Depression hangs over me as if I were Iceland.
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I am awakened each dawn Increasingly to fear.
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Novels seem to me to be richer, broader, deeper, more enjoyable than poems.
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When I get sent manuscripts from aspiring poets, I do one of two things: if there is no stamped self-addressed envelope, I throw it into the bin.-If there is, I write and tell them to f**k off.
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Sex means nothing--just the moment of ecstasy, that flares and dies in minutes.
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To start at a new place is always to feel incompetent & unwanted.
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Everyone should be forcibly transplanted to another continent from their family at the age of three.
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It becomes still more difficult to find Words at once true and kind, Or not untrue and not unkind.
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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.
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What are days for? Days are where we live.
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All the unhurried day / Your mind lay open like a drawer of knives.
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Here no elsewhere underwrites my existence.
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I have no enemies. But my friends don't like me.
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