Poetry is sentimental to begin with. To write a sentimental poem is an act of redundancy. Mary Ruefle More Quotes by Mary Ruefle More Quotes From Mary Ruefle There is a world which poets cannot seem to enter. It is the world everybody else lives in. And the only thing poets seem to have in common is their yearning to enter this world. Mary Ruefle poet common world Every creative act is an act of hypocrisy and violence. You may have to think about it for a while, but I am sure you can discover your own. Mary Ruefle creativity hypocrisy thinking There’s a difference between being alone and being lonely. Writers know that. I have never met a writer who does not crave to be alone. We have to be alone to do what we do. Mary Ruefle differences lonely doe I remember I was a child, and when I grew up I was a poet. It all happened at sixty miles an hour and on days when the clock stopped and all of humanity fit into a little chapel, into a pinecone, a shot of ouzo, a snail's shell, a piece of soggy rye on the pavement. Mary Ruefle pieces humanity children It is the first experience you ever had of reading a decent poem: 'Oh, somebody else is lonely, too! Mary Ruefle lonely reading firsts A poem is a neutrino - mainly nothing - it has no mass and can pass through the earth undetected. Mary Ruefle neutrinos mass earth Although all poets aspire to be birds, no bird aspires to be a poet. Mary Ruefle aspire poet bird When I first encountered the poems of Jon Woodward, I was stunned into the state that is my life's joy-I was in the presence of the inimitable. Uncanny Valley extends that experience-almost into another dimension. These apocalyptic, pixilated poems forge a mythology of our ravaged culture, one that might have been written in the future. If you want poetry to give you a persimmon on a plate, look elsewhere; if you want to know what happens when seven trees fall on the highway and the story is told by a stutterer, this is the book, and it could only have been written by Woodward. Mary Ruefle giving book fall My happiness is marred only by my failure to attain it. Mary Ruefle The industrial world destroys nature not because it doesn’t love it but because it is not afraid of it. Mary Ruefle not-afraid world If you have any idea for a poem, an exact grid of intent, you are on the wrong path, a dead-end alley, at the top of a cliff you haven't even climbed. This is a lesson that can only be learned by trial and error. Mary Ruefle errors path ideas If we knew the value of suffering, we would ask for it. Mary Ruefle asks ifs suffering Metaphor is not, and never has been, a mere literary term. It is an event. Mary Ruefle metaphor events term Every time it starts to snow, I would like to have sex. Mary Ruefle snow sex I like to read because it kills me. Mary Ruefle kill-me Polar fleece is a plush, spongy, totally artificial material that weighs nothing and conveys no quality of warmth or coolness; in fact, you can wear it in the most bitter weather or in the hottest heat. Polar fleece looks neither flimsy and light nor hearty and warm. It has no historical, cultural, or physical association with a place, a season, a society, or any living thing. It is the first existential fabric - eminentaly useful, meaningless, dissociated and weird. Mary Ruefle historical light weather Irreverence is a way of playing hooky and remaining present at the same time. Mary Ruefle irreverence way Yes, the mistrust of poetry has a long history, for a variety of reasons, but they all come down to sentiment and invention over fact and truth. Figurative language is suspicious. Mary Ruefle language long facts All of the heroes Mary Ruefle hero trying fall [On filling out a grant application:] I seek an extended period of time, free from all distractions, so that I might be free to be distracted. Mary Ruefle distraction time might
