Poet Quotes
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Did the gods once mingle with humankind, or is Homer a visionary madman, or, what is worse, a mere poet, a maker-up of beautiful falsities, an elegant liar? I shall grapple with that perplexity, only to emerge as I went in, in a cloud of unknowing, if perhaps a little the wiser.
Eva Brann
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It is the business of a comic poet to paint the vices and follies of human kind.
William Congreve
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When Ulysses hears his own story sung by an epic poet and then he reveals his identity and the poet wants to continue singing, Ulysses isn't interested any longer. That's very astonishing.
Raymond Queneau
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Academia is a graveyard of poets.
Kathleen Raine
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If politicians can't do it, I want to do it. We have to do it. Artists, put it in paintings. Poets, put it in poems, novels. That's what we have to do. And I think it's so important to save the world.
Michael Jackson
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Every good poet includes a critic, but the reverse is not true.
William Shenstone
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The question "From where does the poet get it?" addresses only the what, nobody learns anything about the how when asking that question.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Just as we don't spend a lot of time worrying about how all those poets out there are going to monetize their poetry, the same is true for most bloggers.
Seth Godin
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Let all Black Poets die as trumpets,
And be buried in the dust of marching feet.
Etheridge Knight
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A poet's mission is to make others confound fiction and reality in order to render them, for an hour, mysteriously happy.
Isak Dinesen
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The poet's perfect expression is the token of a perfect experience; what he says in the best possible way he has felt in the best possible way, that is, completely.
John Drinkwater
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There is nothing dictators hate so much as that unassailable, eternally elusive, eternally provoking gleam. One of the main reasons why the very gallant Russian poet Gumilev was put to death by Lenin's ruffians thirty odd years ago was that during the whole ordeal, in the prosecutor's dim office, in the torture house, in the winding corridors that led to the truck, in the truck that took him to the place of execution, and at that place itself, full of the shuffling feet of the clumsy and gloomy shooting squad, the poet kept smiling.
Vladimir Nabokov
