We feel the machine slipping from our hands As if someone else were steering; If we see light at the end of the tunnel, It's the light of the oncoming train. — Robert Lowell Copy Share Image
“Naval officers were not mother's sort; very few people were her sort in those days, and that was her trouble - a very authentic, human, and plausible difficulty, which made Mother's life one of much suffering. She did not have the self-assurance for wide human experience; she needed to feel liked, admired, surrounded by the approved and familiar. Her haughtiness… — Robert Lowell Copy Share
Pity the planet, all joy gone from this sweet volcanic cone; peace to our children when they fall in small war on the heel… — Robert Lowell Copy Share Image
“The English departments were clogged with worthy but outworn and backwardlooking scholars whose tastes in the moderns were most often superficial, random, and vulgar. Students who. wanted to write got little practical help from their professors. They studied the classics as monsters that were slowly losing their fur and feathers and leaking a little sawdust. What one did oneself was… — Robert Lowell Copy Share
“Sleeper in the Valley" The river sings and cuts a hole in the meadow, madly hooking white tatters on the rushes. light escalades the… — Robert Lowell Copy Share Image
“Reading Myself" Like thousands I took just pride and more than just, struck matches that brought my blood to a boil; I memorized the tricks to set the river on fire-- somehow never wrote something to go back to. Can I suppose I am finished with wax flowers and have earned my grass on the minor slopes of Parnassus... No… — Robert Lowell Copy Share
“We are poor passing facts. warned by that to give each figure in the photograph his living name.” — Robert Lowell Copy Share Image
“Those blessèd structures, plot and rhyme— why are they no help to me now I want to make something imagined, not recalled?” — Robert Lowell Copy Share Image
It's a completely powerful and serious book, as good as anything in prose or poetry written by a 'beat' writer, and one of the… — Robert Lowell Copy Share Image
Life begins to happen. My hoppped up husband drops his home disputes, and hits the streets to cruise for prostitutes — Robert Lowell Copy Share Image
