Emerging from chaos, came Light, filling need. — E'yen A. Gardner, Poetic License
Emerging from chaos, came Light, filling need. — E'yen A. Gardner, Poetic License
Emerging from chaos, came Light, filling need. — E'yen A. Gardner, Poetic License
Emerging from chaos, came Light, filling need. — E'yen A. Gardner, Poetic License
Emerging from chaos, came Light, filling need. — E'yen A. Gardner, Poetic License
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Emerging from chaos, came Light, filling need.

— E'yen A. Gardner, Poetic License
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More “Poetry” Quotes

If you're frightened of the countless number of books in the library, you'll never write anything, until you close your — Michael Bassey Johnson
The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did — Helen Bevington, When Found, Make a Verse of
The centuries are sprinkled with rare magicwith divine creatureswho help us get past the common and extraordinary ills t — Charles Bukowski, The Pleasures of the Damned
Poetry creates the myth, the prose writer draws its portrait. — Jean-Paul Sartre
They were learning that New York had another life, too — subterranean, like almost everything that was human in the city — Malcolm Cowley, Exile's Return: A Literary Odyssey of the 1920s
To write a poem you must have a streak of arrogance-- not in real life I hope. In real life try to be nice. It will save — Richard Hugo, The Triggering Town: Lectures and Essays on Poetry and Writing
If I live...I will live unafraid...I will live so all can see,I am not ashamed of who I am or what I'm designed to be!"- — Daniel Von der Ahe, The Fantastic Strange
You are now 18standing on the precipice,trembling before your own greatness.This is your call to leap.There will always — Clementine von Radics
No reprimand in the mirrorSlow walk to LiberiaSlow dance across the SaharaSlow unraveling of gray matter — Mellon Black, 23 Locked Doors
I had loved poetry and the theatre. Now I loved adventure more. — Sara Sheridan, The Secret Mandarin
If there is passion, let me feel its heat.I want my heart to beat fast,my breath raspy, my skin to burn. — Susie Clevenger, Dirt Road Dreams
I do understand that they fall when I'm least able to pay attention because poems fall not from a tree, really, but from — Barbara Kingsolver, Small Wonder