The body, what is it, Father, but a sign To love the force that grows us, to give back What in Thy palm is senselessness and mud? — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
To make the child in your own image is a capital crime, for your image is not worth repeating. The child knows this and… — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
The good poet sticks to his real loves, to see within the realm of possibility. He never tries to hold hands with God or… — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
In the tight belly of the dead, Burrow with hungry head, And inlay maggots like a jewel. — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
A man's house is his stage. Others walk on to play their bit parts. Now and again a soliloquy, a birth, an adultery. — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
Every war is its own excuse. That's why they're all surrounded with ideals. That's why they're all crusades. — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
How something important happens is the business of historians and newspapers, the effect it has is the business of philosophers and writers and especially… — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
The proverbist knows nothing of the two sides of a question. He knows only the roundness of answers. — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
Poets of course are even more unpredictable than other writers, overwhelmed as they are by the moment they inhabit and finding it difficult to… — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
Self-knowledge is a dangerous thing, tending to make man shallow or insane. — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
Laughter and grief join hands. Always the heart Clumps in the breast with heavy stride; The face grows lined and wrinkled like a chart,… — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
But with exquisite breathing you smile, with satisfaction of love, And I touch you again as you tick in the silence and settle in… — Karl Shapiro Copy Share Image
