In the house of poetry nothing endures that is not written with blood to be heard with blood. — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
I have never thought of my life as divided between poetry and politics. — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“I shivered in those solitudes when I heard the voice of the salt in the desert.” — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“I am no longer in love with her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
The typewriter separated me from a deeper intimacy with poetry, and my hand brought me closer to that intimacy again. — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
Tonight I can write the saddest lines...Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer and these the last verses… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“In the end, everyone is aware of this: nobody keeps any of what he has, and life is only a borrowing of… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“Si todos los rios son dulces de donde saca sal el mar? If all rivers are sweet where does the sea get… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“Poetry is an act of peace. Peace goes into the making of a poet as flour goes into the making of bread.” — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“I like for you to be still: it is as though you are absent distant and full of sorrow as though you… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
Writing poetry, we live among the wild beasts, and when we touch a man, the stuff of someone in whom we believed,… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
Political poetry is more profoundly emotional than any other-at least as much as love poetry-and cannot be forced because then it becomes… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“Why did you pour tender fire so quickly, over my life’s cool leaves? Who pointed the way to you? What flower, what… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
On our earth, before writing was invented, before the printing press was invented, poetry flourished. That is why we know that poetry… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“Some poems survive it to become poems in another language,” he argued, “but others refuse to live in any language but their… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
My duty moves along with my song: I am I am not: that is my destiny. I exist not if I do… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“And tell me everything, tell chain by chain, and link by link, and step by step; sharpen the knives you kept hidden… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets towards your oceanic eyes. There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
Then I speak to her in a language she has never heard, I speak to her in Spanish, in the tongue of… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
I stalk certain words... I catch them in mid-flight, as they buzz past, I trap them, clean them, peel them, I set… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“LXXIX When I die, I want your hands on my eyes. I want the light and wheat of your beloved hands to… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“ Poetry And it was at that age... Poetry arrived in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where it… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“Amor" So many days, oh so many days seeing you so tangible and so close, how do I pay, with what do… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“ Tonight I Can Write Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, 'The night is starry and the stars… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“He dormido contigo y al despertar tu boca salida de tu sueño me dio el sabor de tierra, de agua” — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread. — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
The best poet is the man who delivers our daily bread: the local baker. — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“Hay una estrella mas abierta que la palabra 'amapola'? Is there a star more wide open than the word 'poppy"?” — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“T]here arises an insight, which the poet must learn through other people. There is no insurmountable solitude. All paths lead to the… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
For me writing is like breathing. I could not live without breathing and I could not live without writing. — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
Our love was born outside the walls, in the wind, in the night, in the earth, and that's why the clay and the flower,… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“I remember only a day that was perhaps never intended for me, it was an incessant day, without origins, Thursday. I was a man… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“We had, as men, time So our thirst could slowly be satisfied, the ancestral longing to enumerate things and sum them up, to render… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
I don't know who it is who lives or dies, who rests or wakes, but it is your heart that distributes all the graces… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“Body of a woman, white hills, white thighs, you look like a world, lying in surrender. My rough peasant's body digs in you and… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
We open the halves of a miracle, and a clotting of acids brims into the starry divisions: creation's original juices, irreducible, changeless, alive: so… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but do not take from me your laughter. Do not take away the… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
Perhaps the earth can teach us As when everything seems dead And later proves to be alive — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“I am no longer in love with her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.” — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
![“T]here arises an insight, which the poet must learn through other people. There is no insurmountable solitude. All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are.” quote by Pablo Neruda](https://sms4smile.com/quotes/img-quotes/153/pablo-neruda-435_journey_t-here-arises-an-insight-which-the-poet_1586122.jpg)
