Robert Lowell Quotes

I was a fire-breathing Catholic C.O., and made my manic statement, telling off the state and president, and then sat waiting sentence in the bull pen beside a Negro boy with curlicues of marijuana in his hair.
Robert Lowell (1917-1977), U.S. poet. Memories of West Street and Lepke, Life Studies (1959). Lowell was an ardent convert to Roman Catholicism in the 1940s.
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These are the tranquilized Fifties, and I am forty. Ought I to regret my seedtime?
Robert Lowell (1917-1977), U.S. poet. Memories of West Street and Lepke, Life Studies (1959).
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the blaze Is infinite, eternal: this is death, To die and know it. This is the Black Widow, death.
Robert Lowell (1917-1977), U.S. poet. Mr. Edwards and the Spider (l. 43-45). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.
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I saw the spiders marching through the air, Swimming from tree to tree that mildewed day In latter August when the hay Came creaking to the barn.
Robert Lowell (1917-1977), U.S. poet. Mr. Edwards and the Spider, st. 1, Poems 1938-1949 (1950).
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A very little thing, a little worm, Or hourglass-blazoned spider, it is said, Can kill a tiger.
Robert Lowell (1917-1977), U.S. poet. Mr. Edwards and the Spider (l. 19-21). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.
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It's well If God who holds you to the pit of hell, Much as one holds a spider, will destroy, Baffle and dissipate your soul.
Robert Lowell (1917-1977), U.S. poet. Mr. Edwards and the Spider (l. 24-27). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.
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If we see light at the end of the tunnel, It's the light of the oncoming train.
Robert Lowell (1917-1977), U.S. poet. Since 1939, Day by Day (1977).
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I myself am hell; nobody's here—
Robert Lowell (1917-1977), U.S. poet. Skunk Hour (l. 35-36). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.
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I stand on top of our back steps and breathe the rich air— a mother skunk with her column of kittens swills the garbage pail. She jabs her wedge-head in a cup of sour cream, drops her ostrich tail, and will not scare.
Robert Lowell (1917-1977), U.S. poet. Skunk Hour (l. 43-48). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.
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Our Mother, shall we rise on Mary's day In Maryland, wherever corpses married Under the rubble, bundled together?
Robert Lowell (1917-1977), U.S. poet. The Dead in Europe (l. 8-10). . . Selected Poems [Robert Lowell]. (Rev. ed. 1977; repr. 1993) Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
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