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New beginnings and new shoots Spring again from hidden roots Pull or stab or cut or burn, Love must ever yet return.

Robert Graves

Hate is a fear, and fear is rot That cankers root and fruit alike, Fight cleanly then, hate not, fear not, Strike with no madness when you strike.
ROBERT GRAVES

Fear Fruit Hate Madness Strike Yourself
The gas-cylinders had by this time been put into position on the front line. A special order came round imposing severe penalties on anyone who used any word but “accessory” in speaking of the gas. This was to keep it secret, but the French civilians knew all about the scheme long before this.
ROBERT GRAVES

Bow Champion Frustrate Long Order Reward Success Tear War Wind Won
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 Delicate Dreams Pain True Yourself
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
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
Entrance and exit wounds are silvered clean, The track aches only when the rain reminds. The one-legged man forgets his leg of wood, The one-armed man his jointed wooden arm. The blinded man sees with his ears and hands As much or more than once with both his eyes.
ROBERT GRAVES

Change Eye Flashback Happy Life Men Moment Movement Rain Summer Weather
You mean that people who continue virtuous in an old-fashioned way must inevitably suffer in times like these?
ROBERT GRAVES

Class Human Being Inequality Mean Middle People Times Like These Understand Wealth
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
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
She told me that all the girls in Annezin prayed every night for the war to end and for the English to go away as soon as their money was spent. She said that the clause about the money was always repeated in case God should miss it.
ROBERT GRAVES

Action Blow Bow Champion Discuss Girl Night Reward Tide War Wind Won
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

Book Energy Innovation Mind People Positive Secrecy Solitude Soul Think Thinking
Every fairy child may keep Two strong ponies and ten sheep; All have houses, each his own, Built of brick or granite stone; They live on cherries, they run wild I’d love to be a Fairy’s child.
ROBERT GRAVES

Attack Bells Children Consequence Foam History Humanity Kingdom Rule Running Sanity Slave Strong
When I’m killed, don’t think of me Buried there in Cambrin Wood, Nor as in Zion think of me With the Intolerable Good. And there’s one thing that I know well, I’m damned if I’ll be damned to Hell!
ROBERT GRAVES

Able Great Idea Important Kill Question Think Wood Zion
There is one story and one story only.
ROBERT GRAVES

Art And Culture Craft Dance History One Liner Ourselves Soul Story Together
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 don’t really feel my poems are mine at all. I didn’t create them out of nothing. I owe them to my relations with other people.
ROBERT GRAVES

Beautiful Effect Impress Impressive Noble People Poet Poetry Relation Result Saying Simplicity Widely

New beginnings and new shoots Spring again from hidden roots Pull or stab or cut or burn, Love must ever yet return.

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New beginnings and new shoots Spring again from hidden roots Pull or stab or cut or burn, Love must ever yet return.

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