Natural, hell! What was it Chaucer Said once about the long toil that goes like blood to the poems making? Leave it… — R. S. Thomas Copy Share Image
Is there a place here for the spirit ? Is there time on this brief platform for anything other than mind 's failure to… — R. S. Thomas Copy Share Image
Now the power of the imagination is a unifying power, hence the force of metaphor; and the poet is the supreme manipulator of metaphor...… — R. S. Thomas Copy Share Image
The deep spaces between stars , Fathomless as the cold shadow His mind cast. — R. S. Thomas Copy Share Image
To live in Wales is to be conscious at dusk of the spilled blood that went into the making of the wild sky — R. S. Thomas Copy Share Image
Deliver me from the long drought of the mind. Let leaves from the deciduous Cross fall on us, washing us clean, turning our autumn… — R. S. Thomas Copy Share Image
Art is recuperation from time. I lie back convalescing upon the prospect of a harvest already at hand. — R. S. Thomas Copy Share Image
I'm obviously not orthodox, I don't know how many real poets have ever been orthodox. — R. S. Thomas Copy Share Image
I have been all men known to history, Wondering at the world and at time passing; I have seen evil, and the light blessing… — R. S. Thomas Copy Share Image
I have nowhere to go. The swift satellites show The clock of my whole being is slow. — R. S. Thomas Copy Share Image
Imaginative truth is the most immediate way of presenting ultimate reality to a human being... ultimate reality is what we call God. — R. S. Thomas Copy Share Image
