62 Quotes by Robert Lowell

I saw the spiders marching through the air,Swimming from tree to tree that mildewed dayIn latter August when the hayCame creaking to the barn. But whereThe wind is westerly,Where gnarled November makes the spiders flyInto the apparitions of the sky,They purpose nothing but their ease and dieUrgently beating east to sunrise and the sea;

We are all old-timers,each of us holds a locked razor.

And blue-lung'd combers lumbered to the kill.

The light at the end of the tunnel is just the light of an oncoming train.

What we love we are.

History has to live with what was here,clutching and close to fumbling all we had -it is so dull and gruesome how we die,unlike writing, life never finishes.

Animalsfattened for your for your arena suffered lessthan you in dying-yours the lawlessnessof something simple that has lost its law,my namesake, and the last Caligula.

The immortal is scraped Unconsenting from the mortal.

All autumn, the chafe and jarof nuclear war;we have talked our extinction to death.I swim like a minnowbehind my studio window.