Roy Campbell Quotes

14 Sourced Quotes

The frost stings sweetly with a burning kiss
As intimate as love, as cold as death.

Roy Campbell
The one excuse for being pagan is to enjoy it thoroughly.

Roy Campbell
The timeless, surly patience of the serf
That moves the nearest to the naked earth
And ploughs down palaces, and thrones, and towers.

Roy Campbell
You praise the firm restraint with which they write –
I'm with you there, of course:
They use the snaffle and the curb all right,
But where's the bloody horse?

Roy Campbell
I hate 'Humanity' and all such abstracts: but I love people. Lovers of 'Humanity' generally hate people and children, and keep parrots or puppy dogs.

Roy Campbell
Giraffes!—a People
Who live between the earth and skies,
Each in his lone religious steeple,
Keeping a lighthouse with his eyes.

Roy Campbell
Translations (like wives) are seldom strictly faithful if they are in the least attractive.

Roy Campbell
South Africa, renowned both far and wide
For politics and little else beside.

Roy Campbell
Of all the clever people round me here
I most delight in Me –
Mine is the only voice I care to hear,
And mine the only face I like to see.

Roy Campbell
We shall not meet again: over the wave
Our ways divide, and yours is straight and endless –
But mine is short and crooked to the grave:
Yet what of these dark crowds, amid whose flow
I battle like a rock, aloof and friendless –
Are not their generations, vague and endless,
The waves, the strides, the feet on which I go?

Roy Campbell
With white tails smoking free,
Long streaming manes, and arching necks, they show
Their kinship to their sisters of the sea –
And forward hurl their thunderbolts of snow.
Still out of hardships bred,
Spirits of power and beauty and delight
Have ever on such frugal pastures fed
And loved to course with tempests through the night.

Roy Campbell
I love to see, when leaves depart,
The clear anatomy arrive,
Winter, the paragon of art,
That kills all forms of life and feeling
Save what is pure and will survive.

Roy Campbell
Our spirits leaped, hosannas of destruction,
Like desert lilies forked with tongues of fire.

Roy Campbell
Or like a poet woo the Moon,
Riding an armchair for my steed,
And with a flashing pen harpoon
Terrific metaphors of speed.

Roy Campbell