“The snail pushes through a green night, for the grass is heavy with water and meets over the bright path he makes, where rain has darkened the earth's dark. He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers barely stirring… — Thom Gunn Copy Share Image
How sociable the garden was. We ate and talked in given light. The children put their toys to grass All the warm wakeful August… — Thom Gunn Copy Share Image
It was difficult being a teacher and out of the closet in the '50s. By the time I retired, the English department was proud… — Thom Gunn Copy Share Image
Deep feeling doesn't make for good poetry. A way with language would be a bit of help. — Thom Gunn Copy Share Image
I admired what my students were writing, but I think their improvement doesn't directly result from me but from being in a class, being… — Thom Gunn Copy Share Image
One joins the movement in a valueless world, Choosing it, till both hurler and the hurled, One moves as well, always toward, toward. — Thom Gunn Copy Share Image
As humans we look at things and think about what we've looked at. We treasure it in a kind of private art gallery. — Thom Gunn Copy Share Image
I was at a benefit for some imprisoned students in the '60s at San Francisco State, and there were lots of poets reading for… — Thom Gunn Copy Share Image
“At worse, one is in motion; and at best, Reaching no absolute, in which to rest, One is always nearer by not keeping still.” — Thom Gunn Copy Share Image
There have been two popular subjects for poetry in the last few decades: the Vietnam War and AIDS, about both of which almost all… — Thom Gunn Copy Share Image
