The philosophic mind inclines always to an elaborate life--the life of Goethe or of Leonardo da Vinci; but the life of the poet isintense--the life of Blake or of Dante--taking into its centre the life that surrounds it and flinging it abroad again amid planetary music.
Properly, we should read for power. Man reading should be man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in one's hand.
War is nothing but a microcosm of peace... it shows you life in a more intense way and that's how I continue to live it... for good or bad reasons.
If I'm going to burn, it might as well be bright.
Philosophy is a more intense sort of experience than common life is, just as pure and subtle music, heard in retirement, is something keener and more intense than the howling of storms or the rumble of cities.
I wouldn't say I'm stuck in my adolescence, but I think, like a lot of people, I carry my teen years with me. I feel really in touch with those feelings, and how intense and complicated life seems in those years.
The life of a repo man is always intense.
A book, while it is being written, has an intense life of its own which you share.
The very idea of a bird is a symbol and a suggestion to the poet. A bird seems to be at the top of the scale, so vehement and intense is his life, large-brained, large-lunged, hot, ecstatic, his frame charged with buoyancy and his heart with song.
A work can have in it a pent-up energy, an intense life of its own, independent of the subject it may represent.
Playing live is very exhausting, which is partly why I feel so tired today. But I've always wanted to live like that. I'd rather feel the experience than to be sort of feeling something in between and dull and numb. I love feeling the highs and the lows, it makes life far more exciting.
One day a hummingbird flew in-- It fluttered against the window til I got it down where I could reach it with an open umbrella-- --When I had it in my hand it was so small I couldn't believe I had it--but I could feel the intense life--so intense and so tiny-- ...You were like the humming bird to me... And I am rather inclined to feel that you and I know the best part of one another without spending much time together-- --It is not that I fear the knowing-- It is that I am at this moment willing to let you be what you are to me--it is beautiful and pure and very intensely alive.
She was singed, bleeding, bruised, and furiously alive.
