Amy Lowell Quotes (113 Quotes)

Visions for those too tired to sleep.

I ask no recompense, I shall not fail
Although you do not heed; the long, sad years
Still pass, and still I scatter flowers frail,
And whisper words of love which no one hears.

Let us not tempt the future.

Such a colour, such infinite light!

It lies fair and shining before him, a gem set betwixt sky and water,
And spanning the river a bridge, frail promise to longing desire,
Flung by man in his infinite courage, across the stern force of
the water;
And he looks at the river and fears, the bridge is so slight,
yet he ventures
His life to its fragile keeping, if it fails the waves will engulf
him.

Before my God I speak the truth!

Let us be of cheer, remembering that the misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never come.

Can a river flow when the spring is dry?

A cornucopia is nailed into place.

All books are either dreams or swords.

Divorce is not for you to debate about.

For the Lion of England!

I am tired, beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you; of squeezing it into little ink drops, and posting it. And I scald alone, here, under the fire of the great moon.

When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.

My room is tranquil and friendly.

And he must be excused,
Love weaves odd fancies in a lonely place.

As you are mine, Sweetheart, give all!

No, Good God, for my misery!

Oh, Holy Virgin, protect my baby!

I have been dedicate from youth.

Our fathers' fathers, slowly and carefully
Gathered them, one by one, when they were new
And a delighted world received their thoughts
Hungrily; while we but love the more,
Because they are so old and grown so dear!

Dear Heart, I love you, worship you as though
I were a priest before a holy shrine.

In science, read by preference the newest works. In literature, read the oldest. The classics are always modern.

There are few things so futile, and few so amusing, As a peaceful and purposeless sort of perusing Of old random jottings set down in a blank book You've unearthed from a drawer as you looked for your bank book.

The moment will be past.

A face seen passing in a crowded street,
A voice heard singing music, large and free;
And from that moment life is changed, and we
Become of more heroic temper, meet
To freely ask and give, a man complete
Radiant because of faith, we dare to be
What Nature meant us.

See, it is silver, and here is the blue.

A flaming nebula
Rims in my life.

It is folly to think that the will of a king
Can force men to make ducks and drakes of a thing
They value, and life is, at least one supposes,
Of some little interest, even if roses
Have not grown up between one foot and the other.

I wish I had his luck.

I love the earth
And all the gifts of her so lavish hand:
Sunshine and flowers, rivers and rushing winds,
Thick branches swaying in a winter storm,
And moonlight playing in a boat's wide wake;
But more than these, and much, ah, how much more,
I love the very human heart of man.

It ain't a question of forgiveness.

Moon! Moon! I am prone before you. Pity me, and drench me in loneliness.

It was no dream, I swear it!

Sudden we lack
The flash of insight, life grows drear and gray,
And hour follows hour, nerveless, slack.

For life alone is creator of life,
And closest contact with the human world
Is like a lantern shining in the night
To light me to a knowledge of myself.

The night's for you, Sweetheart, for you!

For books are more than books, they are the life, the very heart and core of ages past, the reason why men worked and died, the essence and quintessence of their lives.

So Max, in honour, said
No word of love or marriage; but the days
He clipped off on his almanac.

An' you never see why I was so set on goin' with yer,
Our married life hadn't be'n any great shakes,
Still marriage is marriage, an' I was raised God-fearin'.

I am no devil; is there one?

In the shoulder of the worm is a teacher.

Silvered mounts
Are to my taste.

I was drunk with the lust of his life.

I supply to every want and taste.

Let's bring it to the light of day.

You're
stern,
And cold, and only love your work, I know.

Where art thou hiding, where thy peace?

How the Devil do you know that?

Guess I ain't made to hold a man.