Many great works of art, poetry, and music are inspired by astral memories. The desire to do noble, beautiful things here on Earth is also often a carryover of astral experiences between a person's earth lives.
Paramahansa YoganandaRead
Topic
360 quotes
Many great works of art, poetry, and music are inspired by astral memories. The desire to do noble, beautiful things here on Earth is also often a carryover of astral experiences between a person's earth lives.
People want poetry. They need poetry. They get it. They don't want fancy work.
One thing I do know is that poetry, to be understood, must be clear.
Not every gay person recites poetry or has read Keats. You can get readers through anything if the characters are complicated. You can't dismiss Josey Wales' quite liberal worldview.
To be under occupation, to be under siege, is not a good inspiration for poetry.
I see poetry as spiritual medicine.
I believe in the power of poetry, which gives me reasons to look ahead and identify a glint of light.
Poetry, at its best, is the language your soul would speak if you could teach your soul to speak.
Sir, I admit your general rule, That every poet is a fool, But you yourself may serve to show it, That every fool is not a poet.
Poetry is all that is worth remembering in life.
A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language.
There is not a particle of life which does not bear poetry within it
Whereas story is processed in the mind in a straightforward manner, poetry bypasses rational thought and goes straight to the limbic system and lights it up like a brushfire. It's the crack cocaine of the literary world.
Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night.
The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can, Pursuing it with eager feet, Until it joins some larger way Where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say
A poet's autobiography is his poetry. Anything else can only be a footnote.
I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything.
No passion in the world is equal to the passion to alter someone else's draft.
Clouds come floating into my life from other days no longer to shed rain or usher storm but to give colour to my sunset sky.
For wheresoe'er I turn my ravish'd eyes, Gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise, Poetic fields encompass me around, And still I seem to tread on classic ground.
There is a great amount of poetry in unconscious fastidiousness.
Subscribe for the occasional hand-picked quote. No noise.