Carol Ann Duffy Short Quotes

15 Sourced Quotes

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Whatever 'in love' means,
true love is talented.

Carol Ann Duffy
The words you spoke were frenzied prayers to chemistry..

Carol Ann Duffy
Time hates love, wants love poor,/but love spins gold, gold, gold from straw.

Carol Ann Duffy
You have me like a drawing, erased, coloured in, untitled, signed by your tongue.

Carol Ann Duffy
The dead are so talented.
The living walk by the edge of a vast lake
near the wise, drowned silence of the dead.

Carol Ann Duffy
Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.

Carol Ann Duffy
What do I have
to help me, without spell or prayer,
endure this hour, endless, heartless, anonymous,
the death of love?

Carol Ann Duffy
I cannot say where you are. Unreachable
by prayer, even if poems are prayers. Unseeable
in the air, even if souls are stars.

Carol Ann Duffy
I don't like poets to be like priests, as though you were hearing the Mass: I know where that's coming from because I went to Mass as a child.

Carol Ann Duffy
The beginning of a poem is always a moment of tiny revelation, a new way of seeing something, which almost simultaneously attracts language to it.

Carol Ann Duffy
Somewhere on the other side of this wide night
and the distance between us, I am thinking of you.
The room is turning slowly away from the moon.

Carol Ann Duffy
When you have a child, your previous life seems like someone else's. It's like living in a house and suddenly finding a room you didn't know was there, full of treasure and light.

Carol Ann Duffy
Not a red rose or a satin heart.
I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love... I am trying to be truthful.

Carol Ann Duffy
She stood upon a continent of ice, which sparkled between sea and sky, endless and dazzling, as though the world kept all its treasure there; a scale which balanced poetry and prayer.

Carol Ann Duffy
Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.

Carol Ann Duffy