The human creature is alone in his carapace. Poetry is a strong way out. Stevie Smith More Quotes by Stevie Smith More Quotes From Stevie Smith I'm alive today, therefore I'm just as much a part of our time as everybody else. The times will just have to enlarge themselves to make room for me, won't they, and for everybody else. Stevie Smith live-for-today alive rooms Life may be treacherous, but you can always depend on death. Stevie Smith treacherous depends may All poetry has to do is to make a strong communication. All the poet has to do is listen. The poet is not an important fellow. There will also be another poet. Stevie Smith communication important strong The sea was angry that day my friend, like an old man trying to send back soup at a deli. Stevie Smith sea trying men Marriage I think For women Is the best of opiates. It kills the thoughts That think about the thoughts, It is the best of opiates. So said Maria. But too long in solitude she'd dwelt, And too long her thoughts had felt Their strength. So when the man drew near, Out popped her thoughts and covered him with fear. Poor Maria! Better that she had kept her thoughts on a chain, For now she's alone again and all in pain; She sighs for the man that went and the thoughts that stay To trouble her dreams by night and her dreams by day. Stevie Smith pain dream night A great artist ... takes what he did not make and makes of it something that only he can make. Stevie Smith great-artist great-art artist Why does my muse only speak when she is uhnhappy? She does not, I only listen when I am unhappy. Stevie Smith speak unhappy doe The religion of Christianity Is mixed of sweetness and cruelty Reject this Sweetness, for she wears A smoky dress out of hell fires. Stevie Smith hell fire dresses People who are always praising the past And especially the time of faith as best Ought to go and live in the Middle Ages And be burnt at the stake as witches and sages. Stevie Smith age people past If there wasn't death, I think you couldn't go on. Stevie Smith goes-on death thinking There are moments of despair that come sometimes, when night sets in and a white fog presses against the windows. Then our house changes its shape, rears up and becomes a place of despair. Then fear and rage run simply--and the thought of Death as a friend. This is the simplest of thoughts, that Death must come when we call, although he is a god. Stevie Smith fog running night Fourteen-year-old, why must you giggle and dote, Stevie Smith goats reason years Unpopular, lonely and loving, Elinor need not trouble, For if she were not so loving, She would not be so miserable. Stevie Smith miserable lonely needs Not Waving but Drowning Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he's dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life And not waving but drowning. Stevie Smith heart men way Coleridge received the Person from Porlock Stevie Smith ever-after poetry house O happy dogs of England, Bark well at errand boys, If you lived anywhere else, You would not be allowed to make such an infernal noise. Stevie Smith errands dog boys Life in the [London] suburb is richer at the lower levels. At these levels the people are not self-conscious at all, they are at liberty to be as eccentric as they please, they do not know that they are eccentric. Stevie Smith liberty self people I'll have your heart, if not by gift my knife Shall carve it out. I'll have your heart, your life. Stevie Smith knives ifs heart A man may forgive many wrongs, but he cannot easily forgive anyone who makes it plain that his conversation is tedious. Stevie Smith forgiving may men If a lady comes up to you and tells you that your dear mama is lying in a faint on the pavement round the corner, don't you believe her, don't have anything to do with her, do not go with her into the cab. It is the White Slave Traffic. Stevie Smith white believe lying
