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You lethargic, waiting upon me, waiting for the fire and I attendant upon you, shaken by your beauty Shaken by your beauty Shaken.
William Carlos Williams
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William Carlos Williams
Age: 79 †
Born: 1883
Born: September 17
Died: 1963
Died: March 4
Autobiographer
Literary Critic
Physician
Physician Writer
Poet
Writer
Attendant
Shaken
Fire
Beauty
Waiting
Upon
Lethargic
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That which is possible is inevitable.
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History must stay open, it is all humanity.
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When I am alone I am happy.
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Houses - the dark side silhouetted on flashes of moonlight!
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We are blind and live our blind lives out in blindness.
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Everyone in this life is defeated but a man, if he be a man, is not defeated.
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But all art is sensual and poetry particularly so. It is directly, that is, of the senses, and since the senses do not exist without an object for their employment all art is necessarily objective. It doesn't declaim or explain, it presents.
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Death will be too late to bring us aid.
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I think these days when there is so little to believe in——when the old loyalties——God, country, and the hope of Heaven——aren't very real, we are more dependent than we should be on our friends. The only thing left to believe in——someone who seems beautiful.
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Most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see them
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Empty pockets make empty heads.
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No opinion can be trusted even the facts may be nothing but a printer's error.
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Each speech having its own character, the poetry it engenders will be peculiar to that speech also in its own intrinsic form. The effect is beauty, what in a single object resolves our complex feelings of propriety.
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A profusion of pink roses being ragged in the rain speaks to me of all gentleness and its enduring.
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By listening to his language of his locality the poet begins to learn his craft. It is his function to lift, by use of imagination and the language he hears, the material conditions and appearances of his environment to the sphere of the intelligence where they will have new currency.
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It is difficult to get the news from poetry, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.
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What power has love but forgiveness?
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To make a start, out of particulars and make them general, rolling up the sum, by defective means Sniffing the trees, just another dog among a lot of dogs.What else is there? And to do?
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Among the rain and lights I saw the figure 5 in gold on a red firetruck moving tense unheeded to gong clangs siren howls and wheels rumbling through the dark city.
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The descent beckons as the ascent beckoned
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