We cannot know what John of Leyden felt Under the Bishop 's tongs - we can only Walk in temperate London, our educated city, Wishing to cry as freely as they did who died In the Age of Faith. We have our loneliness And our regret with which to build an eschatology.
In other words the pictures are in a kind of relationship with each other which is touching only at points rather than pictures being illustrations o… - Peter Porter
In other words the pictures are in a kind of relationship with each other which is touching only at points rather than pictures being illustrations o…
- Peter Porter
Writing poetry is the only form of literary labour which gives me entire satisfaction. - Peter Porter
Writing poetry is the only form of literary labour which gives me entire satisfaction.
Poetry is either language lit up by life or life lit up by language - Peter Porter
Poetry is either language lit up by life or life lit up by language
We cannot know what John of Leyden felt Under the Bishop 's tongs - we can only Walk in temperate London, our educated city, Wishing to cry as freely… - Peter Porter
We cannot know what John of Leyden felt Under the Bishop 's tongs - we can only Walk in temperate London, our educated city, Wishing to cry as freely…
A professional is one who believes he has invented breathing. - Peter Porter
A professional is one who believes he has invented breathing.
It is Australian innocence to love The naturally excessive and be proud Of a thoroughbred gelding who ran fast. - Peter Porter
It is Australian innocence to love The naturally excessive and be proud Of a thoroughbred gelding who ran fast.
I have no fondness for pure form at all. - Peter Porter
I have no fondness for pure form at all.
Much have I travelled in the realms of gold for which I thank the Paddington and Westminster Public Libraries. - Peter Porter
Much have I travelled in the realms of gold for which I thank the Paddington and Westminster Public Libraries.
Somewhere at the heart of the universe sounds the true mystic note: Me. - Peter Porter
Somewhere at the heart of the universe sounds the true mystic note: Me.
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