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I was thinking, “So, I’m Emperor, am I? What nonsense! But at least I’ll be able to make people read my books now.

Robert Graves

As was the custom in such cases, the pear tree was charged with murder and sentenced to be uprooted and burned.
ROBERT GRAVES

Crowd Desire Fire Goal Heart Hide Life Murder Pear Rise Street Tree Want Won
You mean that people who continue virtuous in an old-fashioned way must inevitably suffer in times like these?
ROBERT GRAVES
Never use the word ‘audience.’ The very idea of a public, unless the poet is writing for money, seems wrong to me. Poets don’t have an ‘audience’. They’re talking to a single person all the time.
ROBERT GRAVES

Blow Bow Champion Hobby Idea Reading Reward Talk Tide Wind Won Writing
If I thought that any poem of mine could have been written by anyone else, either a contemporary or a forerunner, I should suppress it with a blush; and I should do the same if I ever found I were imitating myself. Every poem should be new, unexpected, inimitable, and incapable of being parodied.
ROBERT GRAVES

Blow Champion Hobby Idea Reading Reward Talk Unexpected Wind Won Writing
The gift of independence once granted cannot be lightly taken away again.
ROBERT GRAVES

Always Freedom Gem God Granted Heart Independence Pure Soul Taken True
Kill if you must, but never hate: Man is but grass and hate is blight, The sun will scorch you soon or late, Die wholesome then, since you must fight
ROBERT GRAVES

Culture Dream Fight Hate Light Machine Men Passion Root Vision
Faults in English prose derive not so much from lack of knowledge, intelligence or art as from lack of thought, patience or goodwill.
ROBERT GRAVES

Goodwill Intelligence Knowledge Mistake Patience
No honest theologian therefore can deny that his acceptance of Jesus as Christ logically binds every Christian to a belief in reincarnation – in Elias case (who was later John the Baptist) at least.
ROBERT GRAVES

Acceptance Belief Himself Honesty Logic
The butterfly, a cabbage-white, (His honest idiocy of flight) Will never now, it is too late, Master the art of flying straight.
ROBERT GRAVES
The sap of Spring in the young wood a-stir Will celebrate with green the Mother, And every song-bird shout awhile for her; But we are gifted, even in November Rawest of seasons, with so huge a sense Of Her nakedly worn magnificence We forget cruelty and past betrayal, Heedless of where the next bright bolt may fall.
ROBERT GRAVES

Affection Betrayal Child Children Family Feeling God Husband Mother Motherhood Sacrifice Song Soul
When a dream is born in you With a sudden clamorous pain, When you know the dream is true And lovely, with no flaw nor stain, O then, be careful, or with sudden clutch You’ll hurt the delicate thing you prize so much.
ROBERT GRAVES

Born Care Delicate Dream Flaw Prize Sudden Yourself
A perfect poem is impossible. Once it had been written, the world would end. Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.
ROBERT GRAVES

Famous Writer Immature Mission One Liner Perfect Personal Poetry Rare Reveal Secret Writing
There is no such thing as good writing, only good rewriting.
ROBERT GRAVES

Goodness Poet Writing
There’s a cool web of language winds us in, Retreat from too much joy or too much fear: We grow sea-green at last and coldly die In brininess and volubility.
ROBERT GRAVES

Change Flashback Happy Joy Life Moment Movement Sea Summer Weather Wind
Poetry is no more a narcotic than a stimulant; it is a universal bittersweet mixture for all possible household emergencies and its action varies accordingly as it is taken in a wineglass or a tablespoon, inhaled, gargled or rubbed on the chest by hard fingers covered with rings.
ROBERT GRAVES

Emergency Mixture Narcotic Poetry Ring Universal
I revise the manuscript till I can’t read it any longer, then I get somebody to type it. Then I revise the typing. Then it’s retyped again. Then there’s a third typing, which is the final one. Nothing should then remain that offends the eye.
ROBERT GRAVES

Book Change Emotion Eyes Feeling Final God Manuscript Offend

I was thinking, “So, I’m Emperor, am I? What nonsense! But at least I’ll be able to make people read my books now.

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I was thinking, “So, I’m Emperor, am I? What nonsense! But at least I’ll be able to make people read my books now.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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