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Louise Bogan Biography

Louise Bogan (August 11, 1897 – February 4, 1970) was an American poet. She was appointed the fourth Poet Laureate to the Library of Congress in 1945.

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Louise Bogan Quotes

I don't like quintessential certitude.

Certain, Quintessential, Certitude, Like

Stupidity always accompanies evil. Or evil, stupidity.

Accompanies, Evil, Stupid, Stupidity

Innocence of heart and violence of feeling are necessary in any kind of superior achievement: The arts cannot exist without them.

Art, Achievement, Feelings, Arts, Heart, Kind

I'll lie here and learn How, over their ground, Trees make a long shadow And a light sound.

Ground, Light, Long, Lying, Make, Sound

Hate does not present many choices; if hate is your solution, you are fairly certain to hate all phemonena with equal joy and intensity, without troubling to drag into prominence any one feature from the loathsome whole.

Hate, Choices, Joy, Present, Equal, Loathsome

Perhaps this very instant is your time.

Instant, Perhaps, Time

All art, in spite of the struggles of some critics to prove otherwise, is based on emotion and projects emotion.

Art, Based, Critics, Emotion, Projects, Struggle

The art of one period cannot be approached through the attitudes (emotional or intellectual) of another.

Art, Attitude, Emotional, Approached, Period

Intellectuals range through the finest gradations of kind and quality: from those who are merely educated neurotics, usually with strong hidden reactionary tendencies, through mediocrities of all kinds, to men of real brains and sensibility, more or less stiffened into various respectabilities or substitutes for respectability. The number of Ignorant Specialists is large. The number of hysterics and compulsives is also large.

Educated, Men, Number, Real, Strong

The women rest their tired half-healed hearts; they are almost well.

Health, Heart, Hearts, Rest, Tired, Women

O God, in the dream the terrible horse began To paw at the air, and make for me with his blows.

Dream, Horse, Blow, God, Make

True revolutions in art restore more than they destroy.

Art, Restore, Revolution, Revolutions, True

But it's silly to suggest the writing of poetry is something ethereal, a sort of soul-crashing, devastating emotional experience that wrings you. I have no fancy ideas about poetry. . . . It doesn't come to you on the wings of a dove. It's something you have to work hard at.

Dove, Experience, Hard Work, Silly, Writing

. . . politics are nothing but sand and gravel: it is art and life that feed us until we die. Everything else is ambition, hysteria or hatred.

Ambition, Art, Gravel, Hatred, Hysteria

But childhood prolonged, cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell.

Children, Childhood, Hell, Fairyland, Prolonged

At midnight tears Run into your ears.

Ears, Midnight, Run, Running, Tears

I have lost faith in universal panaceas - work is the one thing in which I really believe.

Believe, Faith, Lost, Panaceas, Thing, Work

It is through the acceptance of a variety of aethetic and intellectual points of view that a culture is given breadth and density.

Acceptance, Views, Diversity, Given, Culture, Points

I cannot believe that the inscrutable universe turns on an axis of suffering; surely the strange beauty of the world must somewhere rest on pure joy!

Beauty, Encouragement, Happiness, Rest, Suffering, Turns

Because language is the carrier of ideas, it is easy to believe that it should be very little else than such a carrier.

Believe, Ideas, Littles, Easy, Language

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Louise Bogan Biography

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