That impulse I think is a form of love. Poetry is something that comes to you, rather than your having to work… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
“So here, twisted in steel, and spoiled with red your sunlight hide, smelling of death and fear, they crushed out your throat… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
Soft addictions are an alluring, seductive aspect of our culture - they are easy to attain and socially acceptable, they are even encouraged in… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
We've observed that people who stall in their personal growth work often have counterproductive soft addictions that stand in their way of growth and… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
“Two Songs For The World's End I Bombs ripen on the leafless tree under which the children play. And there my darling all alone… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
That impulse I think is a form of love. Poetry is something that comes to you, rather than your having to work out its… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
“The eastward spurs tip backward from the sun. Nights runs an obscure tide round cape and bay and beats with boats of cloud up… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
This is the blood's wild tree that grows the intricate and folded rose — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
Wisdom can see the red, the rose, the stained and sculptured curve of grey, the charcoal scars of fire, and see around that living… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
When not deeply engaged in creative activities, or numbed by the TV, I felt empty and hungry. My heart hurt... I often felt hollow… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
Love is a very important part of life, and you have to give in to it. But after a while it ceases to be… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
When not deeply engaged in creative activities, or numbed out by the TV, I felt empty. My heart hurt. I often felt hollow or… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
“I saw our golden years on a black gale, our time of love spilt in the furious dust. "O we are winter-caught, and we… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
“Now my five senses gather into a meaning all acts, all presences; and as a lily gathers the elements together, in me this dark… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
