maybe death isn't darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us-- — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“When it's over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. --from WHEN DEATH COMES” — 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
“oxygen Everything needs it: bone, muscles, and even, while it calls the earth its home, the soul. So the merciful, noisy machine… — 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
“This is a poem about death, about the heart blanching in its fold of shadows because it knows someday it will be… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
I know death is the fascinating snake under the leaves, sliding and sliding; I know the heart loves him too, can't turn… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“so long as you don’t mind a little dying, how could there be a day in your whole life that doesn’t have… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“When it over, I want to say:all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was a bridegroom, taking the… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“If I had another life I would want to spend it all on some unstinting happiness. I would be a fox, or… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“The salamanders, like tiny birds, locked into formation, fly down into the endless mysteries of the transforming water, and how could anyone… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Every word is a messenger. Some have wings; some are filled with fire; some are filled with death. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Blossom In April the ponds open like black blossoms, the moon swims in every one; there’s fire everywhere: frogs shouting their desire,… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“I went down not long ago to the Mad River, under the willows I knelt and drank from that crumpled flow, call… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
I feel the terror of idleness, like a red thirst. Death isn't just an idea. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“When Death Comes When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“That time I thought I could not go any closer to grief without dying I went closer, and I did not die.” — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
How heron comes It is a negligence of the mind not to notice how at dusk heron comes to the pond and… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
What misery to be afraid of death. What wretchedness, to believe only in what can be proven. — 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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
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 Image
