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Flower Quotes by Amy Lowell

8 Flower quotes by Amy Lowell

All Flower quotes Amy Lowell’s page

Amy Lowell’s eight short verses on flowers provide a quick taste of her vivid, modernist take on nature’s color. The collection is small, yet each line bursts with sensory detail, making it a useful starting point for readers curious about her floral voice.

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Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart; The end lost in dream, They…

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My words are little jars For you to take and put upon a shelf. Their shapes are quaint and beautiful, And they…

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Freighted with hope, Crimsoned with joy, We scatter the leaves of our opening rose.

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May is much sunshine through small leaves.

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Oh! To be a flower Nodding in the sun, Bending, then upspringing As the breezes run.

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Oh! To be a butterfly Still, upon a flower, Winking with its painted wings, Happy in the hour.

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Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart.

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Lilacs, False Blue, White, Purple, Colour of lilac, Your great puffs of flowers Are everywhere in this my New England ... Lilacs…

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More by Amy Lowell

Happiness, to some, is elation; to others it is mere stagnation.

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On the neck of the young man sparkles no gem so gracious as enterprise. Youth condemns; maturity condones.

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Sexual love is the most stupendous fact of the universe, and the most magical mystery our poor blind senses know.

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I do not suppose that anyone not a poet can realize the agony of creating a poem. Every nerve, even every muscle, seems strained…

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I shall go Up and down In my gown. Gorgeously arrayed, Boned and stayed.

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Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin

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Poetry is the most concentrated form of literature; it is the most emotionalized and powerful way in which thought can be presented.

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How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty, and one is alone!

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Only those of our poets who kept solidly to the Shakespearean tradition achieved any measure of success. But Keats was the last great exponent…

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“Christ! What are patterns for?”

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Poets are always the advance guard of literature; the advance guard of life. It is for this reason that their recognition comes so slowly.

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Witches are moon-birds, Witches are the women of the false, beautiful moon.

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I should like to bring a case to trial: Prosperity versus Beauty, Cash registers teetering in a balance against the comfort of the soul.

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Not a softness anywhere about me, Only whalebone and brocade.

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Youth condemns; maturity condones

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