113 Quotes by Amy Lowell

On the neck of the young man sparkles no gem so gracious as enterprise. Youth condemns; maturity condones.

This is war: Boys flung into a breach Like shoveled earth; And old men, Broken, Driving rapidly before crowds of people In a glitter of silly decorations. Behind the boys And the old men, Life weeps, And shreds her garments To the blowing winds.

I should like to bring a case to trial: Prosperity versus Beauty, Cash registers teetering in a balance against the comfort of the soul.

This is America, This vast, confused beauty, This staring, restless speed of loveliness, Mighty, overwhelming, crude, of all forms, Making grandeur out of profusion, Afraid of no incongruities, Sublime in its audacity, Bizarre breaker of moulds.

Poetry is the most concentrated form of literature; it is the most emotionalized and powerful way in which thought can be presented ...

How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty, and one is alone!

Poets are always the advance guard of literature; the advance guard of life. It is for this reason that their recognition comes so slowly.

Lilacs, False Blue, White, Purple, Colour of lilac, Your great puffs of flowers Are everywhere in this my New England ... Lilacs in dooryards Holding quiet conversation with an early moon; Lilacs watching a deserted house; ... Lilacs, wind-beaten, staggering under a lopsided shock of bloom, You are everywhere.

Oh! To be a butterfly Still, upon a flower, Winking with its painted wings, Happy in the hour.