Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?
John KeatsRead
If poetry does not come as naturally as leaves to a tree,_x000D_ _x000D_ then it better not come at all.
Interpretation
Poetry should be a natural expression rather than a forced effort.
John Keats suggests that poetry, like the leaves of a tree, should arise naturally and effortlessly from the soul. If it does not flow with that kind of authenticity, then it is better to leave it untapped, as forced poetry lacks the true essence of artistry and beauty.
In practice
During a poetry reading, this quote can emphasize the importance of authentic expression to budding poets.
Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?
Are there not thousands in the world who love their fellows even to the death, who feel the giant agony of the world, and more, like slaves to poor humanity, labor for mortal good?
Ask yourself my love whether you are not very cruel to have so entrammelled me, so destroyed my freedom. Will you confess this in the Letter you must write immediately, and do all you can to console me in it β make it rich as a draught of poppies to intoxicate me βwrite the softest words and kiss them that I may at least touch my lips where yours have been. For myself I know not how to express my devotion to so fair a form: I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than fair.
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise!Vanishd unseasonably
I think we may class the lawyer in the natural history of monsters.
...I leaped headlong into the Sea, and thereby have become more acquainted with the Soundings, the quicksands, and the rocks, than if I had stayed upon the green shore, and piped a silly pipe, and took tea and comfortable advice.
At Sarah Lawrence, I realized that everybody was already what they were going to be. The painters were painting, the writers writing, the dancers dancing. And nobody wore any makeup. The art was uppermost.
I think what really stays with me is the idea that you can write music about the texture of a wall, and everything is in some way connected.
Your writing", she said to me, "it's so raw. It's like a sledgehammer, and yet it has humor and tenderness. . . .
For two extraordinary years I have been working on it - learning to write - but mostly learning how to tell the truth. At first it is quite impossible. You make yourself better than anybody, then worse than anybody, and when you finally come to see you are "like" everybody - that is the bitterest blow of all to the ego. But in the end it is only the truth, no matter how ugly or shameful, that is right, that fits together, that makes real people, and strangely enough - beauty.
The man is either mad, or he is making verses.
I get to use fiction as a way to work out my thinking and to delight readers in the process. I can't think of any deal that's better for me, and I'm always so grateful that readers have indulged me as I argue with myself in my stories.
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