The years rolled their brutal course down the hill of time. Still poor, my clothes still smelling of the horse barn, still… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
I began to write poetry in high school, and would ride miles over sandy roads in the fine hills around Cedar Rapids,… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
Has the painter not always gone to an art school, or at least to an established master, for instruction? And the composer,… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
But maybe it's up the hills or under the leaves or in a ditch somewhere. Maybe it's never found. But what you… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
But maybe it's up in the hills under the leaves or in a ditch somewhere. Maybe it's never found. But what you… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
Writing is like this-you dredge for the poem's meaning the way police dredge for a body. They think it is down there… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
I have published in 'The New Yorker,' 'Holiday,' 'Life,' 'Mademoiselle,' 'American Heritage,' 'Horizon,' 'The Ladies Home Journal,' 'The Kenyon Review,' 'The Sewanee… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
All poetry is an ordered voice, one which tries to tell you about a vision in the un-visionary language of farm, city,… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
Verse is not written, it is bled; Out of the poet's abstract head. Words drip the poem on the page; Out of… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
I had been warned about Jews by my gentile friends - they did terrible things with knives to boys. — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
Every Christmas should begin with the sound of bells, and when I was a child mine always did. But they were sleigh bells, not… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
When I took over the Writers' Workshop, it was one little class and there were eight students. All of them, brilliantly untalented... I had… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
I grew up in the prolonged survival of the great age of the horse, with harness and saddle and sleigh bells and horse pictures,… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
Soldiers of the American Revolution fought that 18th century war with heavy muskets. In the early 20th century, we kids fought it every Fourth… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
The years rolled their brutal course down the hill of time. Still poor, my clothes still smelling of the horse barn, still writing those… — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
Without vision you don't see, and without practicality the bills don't get paid. — Paul Engle Copy Share Image
