ThursdayOct 23, 2025
Quotes: 53419 Authors: 9969
My soul, be not disturbed By planetary war; Remain securely orbed In this contracted star.
Say not of Beauty she is good, Or aught but beautiful.
I was, being human, born alone; I am, being woman, hard beset; I live by squeezing from a stone The little nourishment I get.
Hail, element of earth, receive thy own And cherish, at thy charitable breast, This man, this mongrel beast: He plows the sand, and, at his hardest need, He sows himself for seed.
Enshrine her and she dies, who had The hard heart of a child.
Honeyed words like bees Gilded and sticky, with a little sting.
If any have a stone to throw It is not I, ever or now.
A subtle spirit has my path attended, In likeness not a lion but a pard; And when the arrows flew like hail, and hard He licked my wounds, and all my wounds were mended.
Avoid the reeking herd, Shun the polluted flock, Live like that stoic bird The eagle of the rock.
Down to the Puritan marrow of my bones There's something in this richness that I hate. I love the look, austere, immaculate, Of landscapes drawn in pearly monotones.
We shall walk in velvet shoes: Wherever we go Silence will fall like dews On white silence below.
The worst and best are both inclined To snap like vixens at the truth But, O, beware the middle mind That purrs and never shows a tooth!
If you would keep your soul From spotted sight or sound, Live like the velvet mole; Go burrow underground. And there hold intercourse With roots of trees and stones, With rivers at their source, And disembodied bones.
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