poetry

"Is there some particular reason that you're here?"..."Not this again.""Not what again?"said Clary."Every time I annoy him, he retreats into his No Mundanes Allowed tree house."Simon pointed at Jace."

"Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash."

"Summer night--even the starsare whispering to each other."

"Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman."

"We live in an old chaos of the sun."

"Calligraphy of geeseagainst the sky-the moon seals it."

"You have to imaginea waiting that is not impatientbecause it is timeless."

"My mouth is a fire escape.The words coming outdon’t care that they are naked.There is something burning in there."

"Only my books anoint me, and a few friends, those who reach into my veins."

"How could I live above the water or breathe under it. How could I swim in darkness consumed in an ocean of you? Falling or flying towards you, losing or finding myself in you and beauty was never the word to catch all that you are. For now I know the means of the infinite and it all starts and ends with you."

"Poetry: the best words in the best order."

"I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings."

"I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; Garlands from window to window; Golden chains from star to star ... And I dance."

"Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary."

"It’s the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I’m a woman Phenomenally."

"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."

"We'll Go No More A-rovingSo, we'll go no more a-rovingSo late into the night,Though the heart still be as loving,And the moon still be as bright.For the sword outwears its sheath,And the soul wears out the breast,And the heart must pause to breathe,And love itself have rest.Though the night was made for loving,And the day returns too soon,Yet we'll go no more a-rovingBy the light of the moon."

"I believe in the flesh and the appetites; Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag of me is a miracle. Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touch’d from;The scent of these arm-pits, aroma finer than prayer; This head more than churches, bibles, and all the creeds."

"My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break."

"I do not know which to prefer,The beauty of inflectionsOr the beauty of innuendosThe blackbird whistlingOr just after."