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I tasted - careless - then -
I did not know the Wine
Came once a World - Did you?
Oh, had you told me so -
This Thirst would blister - easier - now
Emily Dickinson
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Summary riposte
To the dreary wail
There's no knowing what
Love is all about.
Poets know a lot.
Robert Frost
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In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is stoned to death.
Joan D. Vinge
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Though Duty's face is stern, her path is best: They sweetly sleep who die upon her breast.
Henry Abbey
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" Tis plain to me
As A B C,
My dear friend, Mr. Neff!"
"Oh, yes! but then,"
Says Mr. N,
"You know I'm D E F!"
Charles Follen Adams
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Sleep on your writing; take a walk over it; scrutinize it of a morning; review it of an afternoon; digest it after a meal; let it sleep in your drawer a twelvemonth; never venture a whisper about it to your friend, if he be an author especially.
Amos Bronson Alcott
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So I cradle this average violin that knows
Only forgotten showtunes, but argues
The possibility of free declamation anchored
To a dull refrain....
John Ashbery
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Painters have often taught writers how to see.
James Baldwin
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All quiet along the Potomac, they say,
Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot as he walks on his beat to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket.
'Tis nothing—a private or two now and then
Will not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost—only one of the men,
Moaning out, all alone, the death-rattle.
The music was by James Hewitt
Ethel Lynn Beers
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I speak to you in one tongue/ but every moment that ever mattered to me/ occurred in another language.
Marvin Bell
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she
had
then
could
cram
had
by
she
am
Charles Bernstein
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Nature repeats herself, or almost does: repeat, repeat, repeat, revise, revise, revise.
Elizabeth Bishop
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Tell me thou all pervading mind,
When I this life forsake,
Must ev'ry tender tie unbind,
Each sweet connection break?
Ann Eliza Bleecker
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When I behold the heavens as in their prime,
And then the earth (though old) still clad in green,
The stones and trees, insensible of time,
Nor age nor wrinkle on their front are seen
Anne Bradstreet
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That which we look on with unselfish love
And true humility is surely ours,
Even as a lake looks at the stars above
And makes within itself a heaven of stars.
Mary Gardiner Brainard
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I fear freedom. I, above all, fear the freedom that is above all feardom.
Giannina Braschi
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If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no other choice. Failing this duty, he sinks into oblivion. Society, on the other hand, has no obligation toward the poet.
Joseph Brodsky
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I think it must be lonely to be God.
Nobody loves a master. No.
Gwendolyn Brooks
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Thanksgiving-day, I fear, If one the solemn truth must touch, Is celebrated, not so much To thank the Lord for blessing o'er, As for the sake of getting more!
Will Carleton
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How oft the word which we would gladly speak
Might be, unto some darkly groping soul,
The key to bid doubt's massive doors unroll,
The free winds' breath upon the prisoner's cheek,
Or. to the hungry heart, sweet pity's dole!
We hurry on, nor know that they are near,
As passed Evangeline the one so dear.
Julia Abigail Fletcher Carney
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The fisher droppeth his net in the stream, And a hundred streams are the same as one; And the maiden dreameth her love-lit dream; And what is it all, when all is done? The net of the fisher the burden breaks, And always the dreaming the dreamer wakes.
Alice Cary
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Only yield when you must, never "give up the ship," but fight on to the last "with a stiff upper lip!
Phoebe Cary
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When Death hath poured oblivion through my veins,
And brought me home, as all are brought, to lie
In that vast house, common to serfs and Thanes,
I shall not die, I shall not utterly die,
For beauty born of beauty-- that remains.
Madison Cawein
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I laugh, for hope hath happy place with me;
If my bark sinks, 't is to another sea.
William Ellery Channing (poet)
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Each thing lives according to its kind; the heart by love, the intellect by truth, the higher nature of man by intimate communion with God.
Edwin Hubbell Chapin
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Genius is not a possession of the limited few, but exists in some degree in everyone. Where there is natural growth, a full and free play of faculties, genius will manifest itself.
Robert Henri
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