I consider myself kind of a reporter - one who uses words that are more like music and that have a choreography.… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Let me keep my distance, always, from those who think they have the answers. Let me keep company always with those who… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Poetry is one of the original arts, and it began, as did all the fine arts, within the original wilderness of the… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“The poem was made not just to exist, but to speak—to be company. It was everything that was needed, when everything was… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Poetry is one of the ancient arts, and it began as did all the fine arts, within the original wilderness of the… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“I Worried" I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers flow in the right direction, will the earth turn… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Gannets I am watching the white gannets blaze down into the water with the power of blunt spears and a stunning accuracy--… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“The Journey One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“THE POETRY TEACHER The university gave me a new, elegant classroom to teach in. Only one thing, they said. You can’t bring… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
And now my old dog is dead, and another I had after him, and my parents are dead, and that first world,… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“The Poet With His Face In His Hands You want to cry aloud for your mistakes. But to tell the truth the… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“First Snow The snow began here this morning and all day continued, its white rhetoric everywhere calling us back to why, how, whence… — mary oliver Copy Share Image
When death comes…. I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: what it’s going to be like, that cottage… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Love Sorrow Love sorrow. She is yours now, and you must take care of what has been given. Brush her hair, help… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don't hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“These days many poets live in cities, or at least in suburbs, and the natural world grows ever more distant from our… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“The woods that I loved as a child are entirely gone. The woods that I loved as a young adult are gone.… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Poem (the spirit likes to dress up) The spirit likes to dress up like this: ten fingers, ten toes, shoulders, and all… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Belief isn't always easy. But this much I have learned--- if not enough else--- to live with my eyes open. — Mary Oliver Copy Share
In this universe we are given two gifts: the ability to love and the ability to question. Which are, at the same time, the… — Mary Oliver Copy Share
Poetry is one of the original arts, and it began, as did all the fine arts, within the original wilderness of the earth. — Mary Oliver Copy Share
The dream of my life is to lie down by a slow river and stare at the light in the trees - to learn… — Mary Oliver Copy Share
“All important ideas must include the trees, the mountains, and the rivers. • To understand many things you must reach out of your own condition.” — Mary Oliver Copy Share
“Sometimes I think, were I just a little rougher made, I would go altogether to the woods—to my work entirely, and solitude, a few… — Mary Oliver Copy Share
“First Snow The snow began here this morning and all day continued, its white rhetoric everywhere calling us back to why, how, whence such beauty… — mary oliver Copy Share
“What can I say that I have not said before? So I’ll say it again. The leaf has a song in it. Stone is… — Mary Oliver Copy Share
There is nothing better than work. Work is also play; children know that. Children play earnestly as if it were work. But people grow… — Mary Oliver Copy Share
“Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something… — Mary Oliver Copy Share
“I stood like Adam in his lonely garden On that first morning, shaken out of sleep, Rubbing his eyes, listening, parting the leaves, Like… — Mary Oliver Copy Share
We all have a hungry heart, and one of the things we hunger for is happiness. So as much as I possibly could, I… — Mary Oliver Copy Share
