Almost anything is too much. I am trying in my poems to have the reader be the experiencer. I do not want… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“because my life without you would be a place of parched and broken trees” — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
And now my old dog is dead, and another I had after him, and my parents are dead, and that first world,… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“yoga soul today. instant resonation. Spring Somewhere a black bear has just risen from sleep and is staring down the mountain. All… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“I Worried" I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers flow in the right direction, will the earth turn… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
It is no use thinking that writing of poems - the actual writing - can accommodate itself to a social setting, even… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“The woods that I loved as a child are entirely gone. The woods that I loved as a young adult are gone.… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“THE POETRY TEACHER The university gave me a new, elegant classroom to teach in. Only one thing, they said. You can’t bring… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Look, the trees are turning their own bodies into pillars of light, are giving off the rich fragrance of cinnamon and fulfillment,… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“The Fourth Sign of The Zodiac (Part 3) by Mary Oliver I know, you never intended to be in this world. But… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Who can guess the impatience of stone to be ground down, to be a part of something livelier?” — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
On poetry: Everyone wants to know what it means. But nobody is asking, How does it feel? — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“That Little Beast That pretty little beast, a poem, has a mind of its own. Sometimes I want it to crave apples… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Blossom In April the ponds open like black blossoms, the moon swims in every one; there’s fire everywhere: frogs shouting their desire,… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“I went down not long ago to the Mad River, under the willows I knelt and drank from that crumpled flow, call… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
... the natural world is the old river that runs through everything, and I think poets will forever fish along its shores. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Poetry isn't a profession, it's a way of life. It's an empty basket; you put your life into it and make something… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Far off in the red mangroves an alligator has heaved himself onto a hummock of grass and lies there, studying his poems. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Let me keep my distance, always, from those who think they have the answers. Let me keep company always with those who… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
I know the sag of the unfinished poem. And I know the release of the poem that is finished. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Belief isn't always easy. But this much I have learned--- if not enough else--- to live with my eyes open. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
In this universe we are given two gifts: the ability to love and the ability to question. Which are, at the same time, the… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Poetry is one of the original arts, and it began, as did all the fine arts, within the original wilderness of the earth. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
The dream of my life is to lie down by a slow river and stare at the light in the trees - to learn… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“All important ideas must include the trees, the mountains, and the rivers. • To understand many things you must reach out of your own condition.” — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Sometimes I think, were I just a little rougher made, I would go altogether to the woods—to my work entirely, and solitude, a few… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“First Snow The snow began here this morning and all day continued, its white rhetoric everywhere calling us back to why, how, whence such beauty… — mary oliver Copy Share Image
“What can I say that I have not said before? So I’ll say it again. The leaf has a song in it. Stone is… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
There is nothing better than work. Work is also play; children know that. Children play earnestly as if it were work. But people grow… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
