FridayJan 16, 2026
Quotes: 53419 Authors: 9969
Amy Lawrence Lowell (February 9, 1874 - May 12, 1925) was an American poet of the imagist school who posthumously won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1926.
I ask but one thing of you, only one, That always you will be my dream of you; That never shall I wake to find untrue All this I have believed and rested on, Forever vanished, like a vision gone Out into the night. Alas, how few There are who strike in us a chord we knew Existed, but so seldom heard its tone We tremble at the half-forgotten sound. The world is full of rude awakenings And heaven-born castles shattered to the ground, Yet still our human longing vainly clings To a belief in beauty through all wrongs. O stay your hand, and leave my heart its songs!
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.
Hate is ravening vulture beaks descending on a place of skulls.
Art is the desire of a man to express himself, to record the reactions of his personality to the world he lives in.
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