I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.
But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.
Two roads diverged in a wood and I - I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep but I have promises to keep...
Do not go gentle into that good night.
If you cannot be a poet, be the poem.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.
I wish our clever young poets would remember my homely definitions of prose and poetry; that is, prose = words in their best order; - poetry = the best words in the best order.
I am a Woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal Woman, that's me.
Poetry is what gets lost in translation.
Fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds worth of distance run.
Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothes.
I know why the caged bird sings.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart I carry your heart [ i carry it in my heart ]
Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.
Poetry: the best words in the best order.
Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)
The best poetry has its roots in the subconscious to a great degree. Youth, naivety, reliance on instinct more than learning and method, a sense of freedom and play, even trust in randomness, is necessary to the making of a poem.
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