Louise Bogan
Louise Bogan
Louise Boganwas an American poet. She was appointed the fourth Poet Laureate to the Library of Congress in 1945...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth11 August 1897
CountryUnited States of America
life writing poetry
It is not possible, for a poet, writing in any language, to protect himself from the tragic elements in human life.... [ellipsis in source] Illness, old age, and death--subjects as ancient as humanity--these are the subjects that the poet must speak of very nearly from the first moment that he begins to speak.
sides may beast
The terrible beast, that no one may understand, Came to my side, and put down his head in love.
poetry generations poetry-is
Poetry is often generations in advance of the thought of its time.
lying light long
I'll lie here and learn How, over their ground, Trees make a long shadow And a light sound.
silly writing hard-work
But it's silly to suggest the writing of poetry is something ethereal, a sort of soul-crashing, devastating emotional experience that wrings you. I have no fancy ideas about poetry. ... It doesn't come to you on the wings of a dove. It's something you have to work hard at.
acceptance views diversity
It is through the acceptance of a variety of aethetic and intellectual points of view that a culture is given breadth and density.
fall air water
Up from the bronze, I saw Water without a flaw Rush to its rest in air Reach to its rest, and fall.
agony marble statues
Your work is carved out of agony as a statue is carved out of marble.
heart giving despair
...in a time lacking in truth and certainty and filled with anguish and despair, no woman should be shamefaced in attempting to give back to the world, through her work, a portion of its lost heart.
evil stupidity accompany
Stupidity always accompanies evil. Or evil, stupidity.
kindness blow abuse
A thousand kindnesses do not make up for a thousand blows.
instant
Perhaps this very instant is your time.
art ambition hysteria
... politics are nothing but sand and gravel: it is art and life that feed us until we die. Everything else is ambition, hysteria or hatred.
beauty believe axes
I cannot believe that the inscrutable universe turns on an axis of suffering; surely the strange beauty of the world must somewhere rest on pure joy!