A thrush, because I'd been wrong, Burst rightly into song In a world not vague, not lonely, Not governed by me only. Richard Wilbur More Quotes by Richard Wilbur More Quotes From Richard Wilbur Outside the open window The morning air is all awash with angels. Richard Wilbur angel morning inspirational Teach me, like you, to drink creation whole/ And casting out myself, become a soul. Richard Wilbur casting like-you soul I would feel dead if I didn't have the ability periodically to put my world in order with a poem. I think to be inarticulate is a great suffering, and is especially so to anyone who has a certain knack for poetry. Richard Wilbur suffering order thinking All that we do is touched with ocean, and yet we remain on the shore of what we know Richard Wilbur shore ocean knows Most women know that sex isgood for headaches. Richard Wilbur headache knows sex What is the opposite of two? A lonely me, a lonely you. Richard Wilbur broken-heart break-up i-miss-you The eye is pleased when nature stoops to art. Richard Wilbur nature eye art Step off assuredly into the blank of your mind. Something will come to you. Richard Wilbur crafts mind steps We know what boredom is: it is a dull Richard Wilbur boredom light morning It is true that the poet does not directly address his neighbors; but he does address a great congress of persons who dwell at the back of his mind, a congress of all those who have taught him and whom he has admired; they constitute his ideal audience and his better self. Richard Wilbur self mind doe There is a poignancy in all things clear, In the stare of the deer, in the ring of a hammer in the morning. Seeing a bucket of perfectly lucid water We fall to imagining prodigious honesties. Richard Wilbur honesty morning fall The strength of the genie comes from being in a bottle. Richard Wilbur bottles inspiration inspirational That's the main business of the poem!-to see if you can't make up a language that sets all your selves talking at once-all of them being fair to each other. Richard Wilbur poetry self talking Oh, let there be nothing on earth but laundry, Richard Wilbur sight heaven hands Writing is?waiting for the word that may not be there until next Tuesday. Richard Wilbur waiting writing tuesday Odd that a thing is most itself when likened Richard Wilbur odd It is not tricks of sense But the time's fright within me which distracts Least fancies into violence Richard Wilbur tricks fancy violence Columbus and his men, they say, Conveyed the virus hither Whereby my features rot away And vital powers wither; Yet had they not traversed the seas And come infected back, Why, think of all the luxuries That modern life would lack. Richard Wilbur sea men thinking Happy in all that ragged, loose collapse of water, the fountain, its effortless descent and flatteries of spray. Richard Wilbur rain rivers water What is our praise or pride but to imagine excellence and try to make it? What does it say over the door of heaven; but, homo (sapiens) fecit? Richard Wilbur pride doors heaven
