Top 46 Louise Bogan Quotes: Famous Quotes & Sayings About Louise Bogan

#1. Schubert Impromptus that Louise Bogan gave me - Opus 90 and Opus 142, Gieseking.

#2. O fortunate bride, who never again will become elated after
childbirth!
O lucky older wife, who has been cured of feeling unwanted!

Louise Bogan

#3. Once form has been smashed, it has been smashed for good, and once a forbidden subject has been released, it has been released for good.

Louise Bogan

#4. The terrible beast, that no one may understand,
Came to my side, and put down his head in love.

Louise Bogan

#5. Poetry is often generations in advance of the thought of its time.

Louise Bogan

#6. The Initial Mystery that attends any journey is: how did the traveler reach his starting point in the first place?

Louise Bogan

#7. Song, like a wing, tears through my breast, my side,
And madness chooses out my voice again,
Again.

Louise Bogan

#8. Up from the bronze, I saw Water without a flaw Rush to its rest in air Reach to its rest, and fall.

Louise Bogan

#9. A thousand kindnesses do not make up for a thousand blows.

Louise Bogan

#10. It is almost impossible for the poetess, once laurelled, to take off the crown for good or to reject values and taste of those who tender it.

Louise Bogan

#11. The intellectual is a middle-class product; if he is not born into the class he must soon insert himself into it, in order to exist. He is the fine nervous flower of the bourgeoisie.

Louise Bogan

#12. The art of one period cannot be approached through the attitudes (emotional or intellectual) of another.

Louise Bogan

#13. Innocence of heart and violence of feeling are necessary in any kind of superior achievement: The arts cannot exist without them.

Louise Bogan

#14. Your work is carved out of agony as a statue is carved out of marble.

Louise Bogan

#15. But childhood prolonged, cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell.

Louise Bogan

#16. It is through the acceptance of a variety of aethetic and intellectual points of view that a culture is given breadth and density.

Louise Bogan

#17. O God, in the dream the terrible horse began
To paw at the air, and make for me with his blows.

Louise Bogan

#18. O remember
In your narrowing dark hours
That more things move
Than blood in the heart.

Louise Bogan

#19. But it's silly to suggest the writing of poetry is something ethereal, a sort of soul-crashing, devastating emotional experience that wrings you. I have no fancy ideas about poetry ... It doesn't come to you on the wings of a dove. It's something you have to work hard at.

Louise Bogan

#20. I hope that one or two immortal lyrics will come out of all this tumbling around.

Louise Bogan

#21. You have put your two hands upon me, and your mouth,
You have said my name as a prayer.
Here where trees are planted by water
I have watched your eyes, cleansed from regret,
And your lips, closed over all that love cannot say.

Louise Bogan

#22. Hate does not present many choices; if hate is your solution, you are fairly certain to hate all phemonena with equal joy and intensity, without troubling to drag into prominence any one feature from the loathsome whole.

Louise Bogan

#23. What we suffer, what we endure, what we muff, what we kill, what we miss, what we are guilty of, is done by us, as individuals, in private.

Louise Bogan

#24. The measured blood beats out the year's delay.

Louise Bogan

#25. You need some place to work in. That's the door half open.

Louise Bogan

#26. In a time lacking in truth and certainty and filled with anguish and despair, no woman should be shamefaced in attempting to give back to the world, through her work, a portion of its lost heart.

Louise Bogan

#27. Pasture, stone wall, and steeple,
What most perturbs the mind:
The heart-rending homely people,
Or the horrible beautiful kind?

Louise Bogan

#28. Come, drunks and drug-takers; come perverts unnerved!
Receive the laurel, given, though late, on merit; to whom
and wherever deserved.
Parochial punks, trimmers, nice people, joiners true-blue,
Get the hell out of the way of the laurel. It is deathless
And it isn't for you.

Louise Bogan

#29. Stupidity always accompanies evil. Or evil, stupidity.

Louise Bogan

#30. Perhaps this very instant is your time.

Louise Bogan

#31. Politics are nothing but sand and gravel: it is art and life that feed us until we die. Everything else is ambition, hysteria or hatred.

Louise Bogan

#32. Women have no wilderness in them They are provident instead Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts To eat dusty bread.

Louise Bogan

#33. At midnight tears
Run into your ears.

Louise Bogan

#34. Because language is the carrier of ideas, it is easy to believe that it should be very little else than such a carrier.

Louise Bogan

#35. Goodbye, goodbye!
There was so much to love, I could not love it all;
I could not love it enough.

Louise Bogan

#36. I'll lie here and learn
How, over their ground,
Trees make a long shadow
And a light sound.

Louise Bogan

#37. The fact, and the intuition or logic about the fact, are severe coordinates in fiction. In the short story they must cross with hair-line precision.

Louise Bogan

#38. I cannot believe that the inscrutable universe turns on an axis of suffering; surely the strange beauty of the world must somewhere rest on pure joy!

Louise Bogan

#39. How much of our inner substance is it good for us to give to public griefs? The whole modern tendency to agonize over the suffering of the entire globe is surely something new.

Louise Bogan

#40. The women rest their tired half-healed hearts; they are almost
well.

Louise Bogan

#41. The poem is always the last resort. In it the poet makes a world in little, and finds peace, even though, under complete focused emotion, the evocation be far more bitter than reality, or far more lovely.

Louise Bogan