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This seems to me a philosophical question, and therefore irrelevant, question. A poet’s destiny is to love.

Robert Graves

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
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
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

Always Art Fault Faults Gem God Goodwill Granted Heart Intelligent Knowledge Power Pure Soul Success True
Children born of fairy stock Never need for shirt or frock, Never want for food or fire, Always get their heart’s desire.
ROBERT GRAVES

Affection Believe Children Emotion Fire
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
The function of poetry is religious invocation of the muse; its use is the experience of mixed exaltation and horror that her presence excites.
ROBERT GRAVES

Excitement Experience Function Herself Horror Poetry Presence Religious
In love as in sport, the amateur status must be strictly maintained.
ROBERT GRAVES

Amateur Game Sports Status Strict
Let all the poison that lurks in the mud, hatch out.
ROBERT GRAVES

Genuine Idea Inspiration Life Motivation Mud Obscure One Liner Poison Saying Shakespeare True
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
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
But give thanks, at least, that you still have Frost’s poems; and when you feel the need of solitude, retreat to the companionship of moon, water, hills and trees. Retreat, he reminds us, should not be confused with escape. And take these poems along for good luck!
ROBERT GRAVES

Accept Art Chance Confused Control Fate Good Luck Lucky Moon Sad Soul
Marriage, like money, is still with us; and, like money, progressively devalued.
ROBERT GRAVES

Easy Family Funny Life Marriage Precious Time Together Trust Witty World
There is one story and one story only.
ROBERT GRAVES

Art And Culture Craft Dance History One Liner Ourselves Soul Story Together
If I were a girl, I’d despair. The supply of good women far exceeds that of the men who deserve them.
ROBERT GRAVES

Accept Becoming Girl Good Honor Life Mind Perfect Perfection Respect Woman Women
As you are woman, so be lovely: As you are lovely, so be various, Merciful as constant, constant as various, So be mine, as I yours for ever.
ROBERT GRAVES

Love Mercy Myself Woman
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

This seems to me a philosophical question, and therefore irrelevant, question. A poet’s destiny is to love.

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This seems to me a philosophical question, and therefore irrelevant, question. A poet’s destiny is to love.

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Popular Authors

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