文学语录

Poetry is what happens when nothing else can.

Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

Always be a poet, even in prose.

As it has been said:Love and a coughcannot be concealed.Even a small cough.Even a small love.

Let our scars fall in love.

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

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

What is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again.

Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper,That we may record our emptiness.

Some say the world will end in fire,Some say in ice.From what I've tasted of desire,I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twiceI think I know enough of hateTo say that for destruction iceIs also greatAnd would suffice.

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.

Resist much, obey little.

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent

Only the very weak-minded refuse to be influenced by literature and poetry.

All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king.