Sadness Poetry Quotes

Paint the stars and the moon
back into my night sky and tell
me it is okay to cry without asking
why. ~ Juansen Dizon

You will sad your way out of life.
You will cry.
You will scream.

And when the sadness is over.
You will try.
You will dream. ~ Juansen Dizon

Underneath the professional smiles there is a sadness in this country that is sunk so deep in the culture you can taste it in your morning Cheerios. ~ Sean Wilsey

I've been most happy to be an advocate for the kinds of grassroots things that people are doing who care about poetry. ~ Natasha Trethewey

I thought at times that poetry might be an elegant way of screaming. ~ Kathleen Rooney

There is a Day
There's always a day
when I can't believe what was there.
There's always that day
when I didn't understand how to bear.
There's never a day
where I stood in the crowd.
There's never that day
where I knew He was Proud.
There is a day
where I can be alone.
There is that day
where I shall make it known. ~ Isabel Aanya Leigh

I wasn't just crying about Will. I was crying about Seb and Shona and my job and my sister's aggression and my parent's refusal to be proud of me and Lauren's wedding and every last shit little thing that had happened to me from birth, from the big disasters like puberty, to the things that didn't even seem to matter at the time, like when I put milk in my tea last Thursday and then found out it had gone off. ~ Lindsey Kelk

Rainy, gloomy, drab, sunless day. There are times when hope seems entirely clouded over, when looking for the blessings in your circumstances feels like trying to catch a ray of sunshine from six feet under. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

If you want to change people by talking about God, then there is only one way: instead of teaching God, you must live God. Because: "teaching" God is unthinkable in any other way than the way you would teach love or poetry. You teach love only through love, poetry only through writing poetry, faith in God only through a contagious way of trusting. ~ Eugen Drewermann

There are some people who say they're able to 'compartmentalize' things, as though it is possible to put negative or distressing thoughts into neat mental drawers to be taken out only at a psychologically convenient time. It's a beguiling idea, but I've never bought it. In my experience, sadness and regret seek into one's consciousness willy-nilly, or they suddenly leap out at you with a snarl. The only real remedy is time… ~ Isabel Wolff

She had to tell somebody, and Matthew would do. He would not be particularly interested, she knew, but she would tell him anyway. She had to share her joy, as Lou knew that joy unshared was a halved emotion, just as sadness and loss, when borne alone, were often doubled. ~ Alexander McCall Smith

The poet wishes to strike beautiful notes, not new notes... To ask or expect a poet to strike a new note in poetry is exactly like asking or expecting the Nightengale to strike a new note in her perennial song. ~ Alfred Bruce Douglas

In perhaps 50 years, 60 years, we can finish completely this civilization, and offer to our children the possibility to invent a new story, a new poetry, a new romanticism. ~ Philippe Starck

My art unkind, my energy all gone blind;The limbs uneven, the face shallower,Because those who I see are not seen,Those who see me are rude indeed. So blow, blow dear winter, just blow along me!
~ Santosh Kalwar

My friend lost his mother when we were at college. I spent a lot of nights talking with him. Lot of nights." He pauses. "I know what it's like. You don't just get over it. And it doesn't make any difference if you're supposedly a "grown-up". And it never goes away, ~ Sophie Kinsella

A great emotion is too selfish ; it takes into itself all the blood of the spirit, and the congestion leaves the hands too cold to write. Three sorts of emotion produce great poetry - strong but quick emotions, seized upon for art as soon as they have passed, but not before they have passed ; strong and deep emotions in their remembrance along time after ; and false emotions, that is to say, emotions felt in the intellect. Not insincerity, but a translated sincerity, is the basis of all art. ~ Fernando Pessoa

If we surrendered
to earth's intelligence
we could rise up rooted, like trees. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

She has been better educated than her sister, and has a more receptive mind. It seems as though someone had sown in a bare field a sprinkling of history, poetry, and pictures, and every seed had shot up in a flowery tangle. ~ Edith Wharton

Now, what is the left's worldview in general? What is it? If you had to attach not a philosophy but an attitude to a leftist worldview, it's one of pessimism and darkness, sadness. They're never happy, are they? They're always angry about something. No matter what they get, they're always angry. ~ Rush Limbaugh

You shine like love
You shine like hate
until I can't remember the difference ~ McKenzie Richardson

And when our smiles meet I become speechless, My pen becomes wordless by thy sight, So I choose silence in your presence, Oh! The joy to watch you without judgment… ~ Piyush Rohankar

[F]or grief is felt not so much for the want of what we have never known, as for the loss of that to which we have been long accustomed. ~ Pericles

Proposition II

Each grain of sand has its architecture, but
a desert displays the structure of the wind. ~ Keith Waldrop

Gratitude
... here at home our faith dwindles
political division
causes tensions to kindle -
we should never forget
who stands at the door -
who shields us with armor
and shall forever more ... ~ Muse

I dreamed I dwelt in marble halls,
And woke to find it true;
I wasn't born for an age like this;
Was Smith? Was Jones? Were you? ~ George Orwell

When people talk about poetry as a project, they suggest that the road through a poem is a single line. When really the road through a poem is a series of lines, like a constellation, all interconnected. Poems take place in the realm of chance, where the self and the universal combine, where life exist. I can't suggest to you that going through a line that is more like a constellation than a road is easy - or that the blurring of the self and the universal doesn't shred a poet a little bit in the process. The terrain of a poem is unmapped (including the shapes of the trees along the constellation-road). A great poet knows never to expect sun or rain or cold or wind in the process of creating a poem. In a great poem all can come to the fore at once. It would be worse yet, if none are there at all. ~ Dorothea Lasky

I find it incredibly amazing how at every sunset, the sky is a different shade. No cloud is ever in the same place. Each day is a new masterpiece. A new wonder. A new memory. ~ Sanober Khan

AMUSING MYSELF

Facing my wine, I did not see the dusk,
Falling blossoms have filled the folds of my clothes.
Drunk, I rise and approach the moon in the stream,
Birds are far off, people too are few. ~ Li Bai

if god is real, she put all of herself into this girl. she vowed to unleash a woman so violently herself, the sky would collapse every time she came to orgasm. ~ Taylor Rhodes

let me tell you i'm in love with you. let me tell you that the first thing i do when i wake is think of you. let me be completely honest about this-- about what you mean to me.
let me take it there without ruining everything. ~ AVA.

The Laws Of God, The Laws Of Man

The laws of God, the laws of man
He may keep that will and can;
Not I: Let God and man decree
Laws for themselves and not for me;
And if my ways are not as theirs
Let them mind their own affairs.
Their deeds I judge and much condemn,
Yet when did I make laws for them?
Please yourselves, Say I, and they
Need only look the other way.
But no, they will not; they must still
Wrest their neighbor to their will,
And make me dance as they desire
With jail and gallows and hellfire.
And how am I to face the odds
Of man's bedevilment and God's?
I, a stranger and afraid
In a world I never made.
They will be master, right or wrong;
Though both are foolish, both are strong.
And since, my soul, we cannot fly
To Saturn nor to Mercury,
Keep we must, if keep we can
These foreign laws of God and man. ~ A.E. Housman

Bernard was to remember this moment for the rest of his life. As they drank from their water bottles he was struck by the recently concluded war not as a historical, geopolitical fact but as a multiplicity, a near-infinity of private sorrows, as a boundless grief minutely subdivided without diminishment among individuals who covered the continent like dust, like spores whose separate identities would remain unknown, and whose totality showed more sadness than anyone could ever begin to comprehend; a weight borne in silence by hundreds of thousands, millions, like the woman in black for a husband and two brothers, each grief a particular, intricate, keening love story that might have been otherwise. It seemed as though he had never thought about the war before, not about its cost. He had been so busy with the details of his work, of doing it well, and his widest view had been of war aims, of winning, of statistical deaths, statistical destruction, and of post-war reconstruction. For the first time he sensed the scale of the catastrophe in terms of feeling; all those unique and solitary deaths, all that consequent sorrow, unique and solitary too, which had no place in conferences, headlines, history, and which had quietly retired to houses, kitchens, unshared beds, and anguished memories. This came upon Bernard by a pine tree in the Languedoc in 1946 not as an observation he could share with June but as a deep apprehension, a recognition of a truth that dismayed him into silenc ~ Ian McEwan

It's not to be expected that an ox and an ass should worship at the crib. Animals are always doing the oddest things in the lives of the saints. It's all part of the poetry, the Alice-In-Wonderland side of religion. ~ Evelyn Waugh

I'm too heartbroken to shed tears. ~ Maude Julien

...when I look at my arms, I don't think revolutionary. I think sad, and pain, but not revolutionary. ~ Kathleen Glasgow

I sat in the gradually chilling room, thinking of my whole past the way a drowning man is supposed to, and it seemed part of the present, part of the gray cold and the beggar woman without a face and the moulting birds frozen to their own filth in the Orangerie. I know now I was in the throes of some small glandular crisis, a sublimated bilious attack, a flick from the whip of melancholia, but then it was terrifying ... nameless ... ~ Mary Francis Kennedy Fisher

Despite what you've read, your sadness is not beautiful. No one will see you in the bookstore, curled up with your Bukowski, and want to save you.
Stop waiting for a salvation that will not come from the grey-eyed boy looking for an annotated copy of Shakespeare,
for an end to your sadness in Keats.
He coughed up his lungs at 25, and flowery words cannot conceal a life barely lived.
Your life is fragile, just beginning, teetering on the violent edge of the world.
Your sadness will bury you alive, and you are the only one who can shovel your way out with hardened hands and ragged fingernails, bleeding your despair into the unforgiving earth.
Darling, you see, no heroes are coming for you. Grab your sword, and don your own armor. ~ Emily Palermo

I think all tragedies are best told with some humor. You have to relieve the darkness to let the reader get through it. Also, that life has happiness and sadness mixed together. If you told a story that was all darkness, it wouldn't be real. ~ Alan Lightman

You're only as good as you're next thought of yourself. ~ Curtis Tyrone Jones

your hand
touching mine.
this is how
galaxies
collide. ~ Sanober Khan

I've done a lot of going back and forth with my own writing, in particular translating my English language stuff into Ukrainian - poetry as well as prose. But I actually hate doing it. It is a thankless, mind-numbing process, additionally unpleasant for me because it reminds me of my ambiguous status of not belonging anywhere. ~ Yuriy Tarnawsky

But when I do feel all the strength go out of me, and I fall to my knees beside the table and I think I cry, then, or at least I want to, and everything inside me screams for just one more kiss, one more word, one more glance, one more. ~ Veronica Roth

I don't want to know more about her; don't want to know her weaknesses or calculate them. What I have is not for her; he gives me to understand she would not know what to do with it; it's not her fault. --One is married and there is nothing to be done.-- Yet he has said to me, I would marry you if I could, meaning: I want very much to marry you. I offended him a bit by not being moved. It's other things he's said that are the text I'm living by. I really do not know if I want any form of public statement, status, code; such as marriage. There's nothing more private and personal than the life of a mistress, is there? Outwardly, no one even knows we are responsible to each other....

'This is the creature that has never been'--he told me a line of poetry about that unicorn, translated from German. A mythical creature. Un paradis inventé. ~ Nadine Gordimer

The world stops existing in your arms,
leaving me speechless…
In love with love. ~ Tatjana Ostojic

Nesryn Sobbed, tugging and tugging.
Sartaq smiled at her ــ gently. Sweetly. In a way she had not yet seen.
"I Loved you before I ever set eyes on you," he said.
"Please," Nesryn wept.
Sartaq's hand tightened on hers. "I wish we'd had time."
A Hiss behind him, a rising bulk of shining black ــ
Then the prince was gone. Ripped from her hands.
As if he had never been. ~ Sarah J. Maas

And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers. Go running back to dust and mist. ~ Carl Sandburg

I have written about some truly great writers - John Steinbeck, Robert Frost, and William Faulkner. Faulkner and Frost were the very peaks of American poetry and fiction in the 20th century. ~ Jay Parini

I'm saying that the domain of poetry includes both oral & written forms, that poetry goes back to a pre-literate situation & would survive a post-literate situation, that human speech is a near-endless source of poetic forms, that there has always been more oral than written poetry, & that we can no longer pretend to a knowledge of poetry if we deny its oral dimension. ~ Jerome Rothenberg

I didn't know that would be the last time I'd see him, his neck scar lit blue by the diner's neon marquee. To see that little comma again, to put my mouth there, let my shadow widen the scar until, at last, there was no scar to be seen at all, just a vast and equal dark sealed by my lips. A comma superimposed by a period the mouth so naturally makes. Isn't that the saddest thing in the world, Ma? A comma forced to be a period? ~ Ocean Vuong

Perfect love has a breath of poetry which can exalt the relations of the least-instructed human beings. ~ George Eliot