Plato Quotes

The poets are nothing but interpreters of the gods, each one possessed by the divinity to whom he is in bondage.

Because people are very interested in my poetry, in what I say.

The best poems come from the world, go through the poet, and go back in to the world.

I always knew that was what I wanted to do - to write, particularly poetry.

I love to dwell on the thought that the artist is next in divinity to the saint. He, like the saint, performs miracles.

Creativity itself is divine. Creativity itself is godliness.

Has anyone...any distinct notion of what poets of a stronger age understood by the word inspiration? ... There is an ecstasy such that the immese strain of it is sometimes relaxed by a flood of tears, along with which one's steps either rush or involuntarily lag, alternately. There is the feeling that one is completely out of hand, with the very distinct consciousness of an endless number of fine thrills and quiverings to the very toes... Everything happens quite involuntarily, as if in a tempestuous outburst of freedom, of absoluteness, of power and divinity.

For a poet, making poems is a way of viewing the world, being in the world, breathing.

but as God said, crossing his legs, I see where I have made plenty of poets but not so very much poetry.

Creativity means you have to disappear, you have to allow God to be.

The poet's pen is the true divining rod Which trembles towards the inner founts of feeling; Bringing to light and use, else hid from all, The many sweet clear sources which we have of good and beauty in our own deep bosoms; And marks the variations of all mind As does the needle.

Art is the Godhead as revealed in the works of man.

The artist is not a person endowed with free will who seeks his own ends, but one who allows it to realize its supreme purpose through him.

Our poets are men of talents who sing, and not the children of music.

And every good artist knows that the gift comes from somewhere else, and it's there for a reason, and that's to make the world a better place.

What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music.... And people flock around the poet and say: 'Sing again soon' - that is, 'May new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten us, but the music, that is blissful.

In the end it all comes down to enthusiasm. Your creativity is basically your expression of God-force.

Artists are nearest God. Into their souls he breathes his life, and from their hands it comes in fair, articulate forms to bless the world.

for a poet is a light and winged thing, and holy, and never able to compose until he has become inspired, and is beside himself, and reason is no longer in him.

This round of green, this orb of flame, Fantastic beauty; such as lurks In some wild poet, when he works Without a conscience or an aim.

If artists and poets are unhappy, it is after all because happiness does not interest them.

You can study orchestration, you can study harmony and theory and everything else, but melodies come straight from God.

The only artists I have ever known who are personally delightful are bad artists. Good artists exist simply in what they make, and consequently are perfectly uninteresting in what they are. A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are absolutely fascinating. The worse their rhymes are, the more picturesque they look. The mere fact of having published a book of second-rate sonnets makes a man quite irresistible. He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realize.

Once I started writing all the time and interacting with poets, I made a conscious decision to identify myself as a poet. It's funny how much a single word can provide focus and direction. As soon as I claimed that identity, I started clearing more and more space for poetry in my life and applying poetic tools to other areas of my life. The world became a different place, and I witnessed it through different kinds of eyes.

Every poet, be his outward lot what it may, finds himself born in the midst of prose; h e has to struggle from the littleness and obstruction of an actual world into the freedom and infinitude of an ideal.