Robert Lowell Quotes

Age is our reconciliation with dullness.

Those blessed structures, plot and rhyme—why are they no help to me now I want to make something imagined, not recalled?

We feel the machine slipping from our hands As if someone else were steering; If we see the light at the end of the tunnel, It’s the light of the oncoming train.

My Darling, prickly hedgehog of the heart, chocolates, cherries, hairshirts, pinks and glass— when we joined in the sublime blindness of courtship loving lost all its vice with half its virtue.

Life is too short to silver over this tarnish. The gods, employed to haunt and punish husbands, have no hand for trigger-fine distinctions, their myopia makes all error mortal.

Pity the planet, all joy gone from this sweet volcanic cone.