Poetry began in the matriarchal age, and derives its magic from the moon, not from the sun. No poet can hope to understand the nature of poetry unless he has had a vision of the Naked King crucified to the… — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
But give thanks, at least, that you still have Frost's poems; and when you feel the need of solitude, retreat to the companionship of moon, water, hills and trees. Retreat, he reminds us, should not be confused with escape. And… — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
The poet's first rule must be never to bore his readers; and his best way of keeping this rule is never to bore himself-which,… — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
She told me that all the girls in Annezin prayed every night for the war to end and for the English to go away… — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
“Children born of fairy stock Never need for shirt or frock Never want for food or fire Always get their heart's desire Jingle pockets… — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
To know only one thing well is to have a barbaric mind: civilization implies the graceful relation of all varieties of experience to a… — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
Before an attack, the platoon pools all its available cash and the survivors divide it up afterwards. Those who are killed can't complain, the… — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
“To resist the social pressure now put even on one's leisure time, requires a tougher upbringing and a more obstinate willfulness about going one's… — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
The art of poetry consists in taking the poem through draft after draft, without losing its inspirational magic: he removes everything irrelevant or distracting,… — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
Entrance and exit wounds aresilvered clean, The track aches only when the rain reminds. The one-legged man forgets his leg of wood. The one-armed… — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
What we now call "finance" is, I hold, an intellectual perversion of what began as warm human love. — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
“Manticor in Arabia (The manticors of the montaines Mighte feed them on thy braines.--Skelton.) Thick and scented daisies spread Where with surface dull like… — Robert Graves Copy Share Image
