“If you prefer, I'll be pure raging meat, or if you prefer, as the sky changes tone, I'll be absolutely tender, not… — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
“A chestnut-haired child Cheering up, went and stood in his stall. And took the whole incident like a young colt - and… — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
“Here's how I used to think you made a book: a poet comes along, mouth half open, inspired, then suddenly the idiot… — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
If you like I'll be furious flesh elemental, or- changing to tones that the sunset arouses- if you like- I'll be extraordinary gentle, not… — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
I understand the power and the alarm of words - Not those that they applaud from theatre-boxes, but those which make coffins break from… — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
Our planet is poorly equipped for delight. One must snatch gladness from the days that are. In this life it's not difficult to die.… — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
Comrade life, let us march faster, March faster through what's left of the five-year plan. — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
On the pavement of my trampled soul the steps of madmen weave the prints of rude crude words. — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
“You entered, Abrupt like “Take it!”, Mauling suede gloves, you tarried, And said: “You know,- I’m soon getting married.” Get married then. It’s all… — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
“Soon, sampled by everyone, Stale and pallid, I’ll come out And mumble toothlessly That today I’m “Remarkably candid.” — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
“Men, crumpled like bed-sheets in hospitals, And women, battered like overused proverbs.” — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
Gentle souls! You play your love on the violin. The crude ones play it on the drums violently. But can you turn yourselves inside… — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
“Then there's amortization, the deadliest of all; amortization of the heart and soul.” — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
“Oleg Bard: I understand, but by virtue of that power of imagination which, according to [Georgi] Plekhanov, is granted to Marxists, I can already… — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
A line is a fuse that's lit. The line smolders, the rhyme explodes— and by a stanza a city is blown to bits. — Vladimir Mayakovsky Copy Share Image
