Find the best Poetic quotes with images from our collection at QuotesLyfe. You can download, copy and even share it on Facebook, Instagram, Whatsapp, Linkedin, Pinterst, Reddit, etc. with your family, friends, colleagues, etc. The available pictures of Poetic quotes can be used as your mobile or desktop wallpaper or screensaver. Also, remember to explore the Poetic quote of the day.
Poetic Quote of the day
The unwelcome November rain had perversely stolen the day's last hour and pawned it with that ancient fence, the night.
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs.
I get a little poetic sometimes. The moonlight does that to me.
You are my drug of choiceI know you’re no good for meAnd though I swear my lipsWill never touch you againHere we are, here we are.
Pram wasn't told the story of her birth. But even as a very small girl, she felt deep in her chest that she was alive and dead at the same time.
When it has finished saying it, it no longer is. The longer it is in saying it, the more it can say it at length, the more slowly it melts, the better quality it is.
When you deserved it, even the mail could rape you.
Fracture lines etch the surface of the glass box as if a body fell from the sky and landed on it. He doesn't hear the impact, can't smell the blood.
from under the ground, from under the waters, they clutch at us, they clutch at us, we won’t let go.
I wonder who else in the world was having such an exquisite dawn.
Because we were not in our country, we could not use our own languages, and so when we spoke our voices came out bruised.
A rain like melting pillows…a rain so beautifulI could neverhave let go ofif not certainthat someday...it would find its wayinto my poem.
I should have bailed. That little voice had my back. That little voice is older than I am. It's older than the oldest person who ever lived. I should have listened to that voice.
Someone asked me when is my birthday?The poet inside me replied, "My birthday is on the last day of the year, It's 31st December my dear!
When I couldn't speak I was not drawn into silence, silence captured me.
He talks softly, patiently, as I sit on the window ledge and watch boats with colorful triangles for sails scratch the ocean.
I see an ocean that’s spilled out of a wineglass, its body clear and sparkling and folding over itself. I see a ribbon of sand.
This time as we ascend, I watch the world sinking below us. I watch the way the city fades into sand that gets washed by the ocean.
From her perch more than a kilometer aboveground, she surveys the city that never sleeps, glittering and coruscating in the rain like a metaphor for her glamorous life.
Of everythingI have ever endured, YOUareMy Favourite Tragedy.
Scatter as a prayerescaping my lips...as orchidsblooming in clouds.
One has to abandon altogether the search for security, and reach out to the risk of living with both arms. One has to court doubt and darkness as the cost of knowing.
...and the women spread their ntsaroz and sit on one side, the men on the other, like they are two different rivers that are not supposed to meet.
The dust of thirty years hung lifeless in shafts of morning light, the gilding of perfectly prim pages shone incanescent, the shriek of rolling ladders mourned in perennial soliloquy.
We strive for beauty and balance, the sensual over the sentimental.
I was wild and tame and pulled into shreds and crushed into being all at once.
You need a poetic touch from the outer space? Then you need the moonlight!
I make sacrifices in reward of trinkets for my gilded cage.
Kept dreaming of this spot she had on her neck, this tiny country. I wanted to visit, to paint a picture of what I found there, a wall with a road map of her skin.
in the endit is wordspoetry. sunsetssomeone’s deep blue silk voice.mountain scents.someone’s smile.eyes. that we haveno defenses against.
hough we travel the whole over to find the perfect match, we must carry it with us a light or it's playing hard to catch.
The early dew-falls that did a pristine coating, over the woods with its finest transparency, glazed as like its wet white-glassy earrings that hung on the ears of wild flowers—unlatched my fancy.
if nothing endswhere do we begin?
You hung around the tattered edges of my soul, that's where you preferred to be...
I am a daydreamer.. I daydream a lot, and thus is when my wicked imagination emerges to bleed upon my paper...
Some people wait to get flowers while others grow gardens.
Humor has justly been regarded as the finest perfection of poetic genius.
I finally wentwhere everyone goesand I realizedI wasnevermissingout.
You are the song of my mind, melody of my soul, dance of my spirit, and the indescribable ecstasy of my life.
The displacement of water is equal to the something of something.
I have seen beyond the bounds of infinity and drawn down daemons from the stars. . . . I have harnessed the shadows that stride from world to world to sow death and madness. . . .
Whole life is a search for beauty. But, when the beauty is found inside, the search ends and a beautiful journey begins.
Your personality should be described in poem not in paragraph.
Drink from the ethereal philosophy of Heaven and you may see life as no more no less than a dream made of pure poetry from divine source. AA
Let your life be poetic enough for others to remember it
Genius in general is poetic. Where genius has been active it has been poetically active. The truly moral person is a poet.
Things don't always end up the way we planned but it doesn't mean the plan wasn't magical while it lasted.
As artists, we create the beautyWe are too afraid to live outAnd search, but always fall just shyOf finding what life is about.
I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another til I drop.
Each moment is a poetic expression of the undefined. As long as it remains undefined, it has all the beauty of the world and it steps inside to nurture your dreams.