99+ Ted Hughes Quotes on Heart, The Bell Jar and Birthday Letters - Quotes.pub

Here you will find all the famous Ted Hughes quotes. There are more than 99+ quotes in our Ted Hughes quotes collection. We have collected all of them and made stunning Ted Hughes wallpapers & posters out of those quotes. You can use this wallpapers & posters on mobile, desktop, print and frame them or share them on the various social media platforms. You can download the quotes images in various different sizes for free. In the below list you can find quotes in various categories like Heart, The Bell Jar and Birthday Letters

As Popa penetrates deeper into his life, with book after book, it begins to look like a Universe passing through a Universe. It is one of the most exciting things in modern poetry, to watch this journey being made.

In writing these poems about relatives, I found it almost impossible to write about the mother. I was stuck. My feelings about my mother, you see, must be too complicated to easily flow into words.

The difficult thing is not to pick up the information but to recognise it – to accept it into our consciousness. Most of us find it difficult to know what we are feeling about anything. In any situation it is almost impossible to know what is really happening to us. This is one of the penalties of being human and having a brain so swarming with interesting suggestions and ideas and self-distrust.

That night was nothing but getting to know how smooth your body is. The memory of it goes through me like brandy.

Your journal pages. Your effort to cry words.

The Bush administration doesn’t particularly like public participation. It makes them look bad.

Stilled legendary depth: It was as deep as England. It held Pike too immense to stir, so immense and old That past nightfall I dared not cast.

The gash in its throat was shocking, but not pathetic.

The Shell The sea fills my ear with sand and with fear. You may wash out the sand, but never the sound of the ghost of the sea that is haunting me.

Prose, narratives, etcetera, can carry healing. Poetry does it more intensely.

The real mystery is this strange need. Why can’t we just hide it and shut up? Why do we have to blab? Why do human beings need to confess?

The world’s decay where the wind’s hands have passed, And my head, worn out with love, at rest In my hands, and my hands full of dust.

The brassy wood-pigeons Bubble their colourful voices, and the sun Rises upon a world well-tried and old.

With a sudden sharp hot stink of fox, It enters the dark hole of the head. The window is starless still; the clock ticks, The page is printed.

The deeps are cold: In that darkness camaraderie does not hold: Nothing touches but, clutching, devours.

It took the whole of Creation To produce my foot, my each feather: Now I hold Creation in my foot. Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly – I kill where I please because it is all mine. There is no sophistry in my body: My manners are tearing off heads – The allotment of death.

Applause is the beginning of abuse.

Do as you like with me. I’m your parcel. I have only our address on me. Open me, or readdress me.

In the pit of red You hid from the bone-clinic whiteness But the jewel you lost was blue.

But who is stronger than death? Me, evidently .

The dreamer in her Had fallen in love with me and she did not know it. That moment the dreamer in me Fell in love with her and I knew it.

I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed. Inaction, no falsifying dream Between my hooked head and hooked feet: Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat.

The progress of any writer is marked by those moments when he manages to outwit his own inner police system.

So we found the end of our journey. So we stood, alive in the river of light, Among the creatures of light, creatures of light.

The world rolls under the long thrust of his heel. Over the cage floor the horizons come.

There is no better way to know us Than as two wolves, come separately to a wood.

You could become internationally famous – you’re Gemini, and according to antique authority have a literary talent, which of course your letters prove.

He could not stand. It was not That he could not thrive, he was born With everything but the will – That can be deformed, just like a limb. Death was more interesting to him. Life could not get his attention.

It took the whole of Creation to produce my foot, my each feather: now I hold Creation in my foot.

Where white is black and black is white, I won.

What happened casually remains -.

Nothing has changed since I began. My eye has permitted no change. I am going to keep things like this.

The only thing people regret is that they didn’t live boldy enough, that they didn’t invest enough heart, didn’t love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.

What happens in the heart, simply happens.

Nobody wanted your dance, Nobody wanted your strange glitter, your floundering Drowning life and your effort to save yourself, Treading water, dancing the dark turmoil, Looking for something to give.

The Iron Man came to the top of the cliff. How far had he walked? Nobody knows. Where did he come from? Nobody knows. How was he made? Nobody knows. Taller than a house the Iron Man stood at the top of the cliff, at the very brink, in the darkness.

Nobody knew the Iron Man had fallen. Night passed.

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.

The Bell Jar Quotes

Some word - from before this translation

Grand canyon Quotes

We had sweated the labor, the pilgramige. Now we wanted the blessing.

Birthday letters page 97 Quotes

Wadsworth MoorWhere the millstone of skyGrinds light and shadow so purple-fineAnd has ground it so longGrinding the skin off the earthEarth bleeds her raw true darknessA land naked now as a woundThat the sun swabs and dabsWhere the miles of agony are numbnessAnd harebell and heather a euphoria

Poem Quotes Yorkshire landscape Quotes

In those days I coercedOracular assuranceIn my favour out of every sign.

Hope Quotes Love Quotes / Delusion Quotes Youth Quotes

THE BLUE FLANNEL SUIT"I had let it all grow. I had supposedIt was all OK. Your lifeWas a liner I voyaged in.Costly education had fitted you out.Financiers and committees and consultantsEffaced themselves in the gleam of your finish.You trembled with the new life of those engines.That first morning,Before your first class at College, you sat thereSipping coffee. Now I know, as I did not,What eyes waited at the back of the classTo check your first professional performanceAgainst their expectations. What assessorsWaited to see you justify the costAnd redeem their gamble. What a furnaceOf eyes waited to prove your metal. I watchedThe strange dummy stiffness, the misery,Of your blue flannel suit, its straitjacket, uglyHalf-approximation to your ideaOf the properties you hoped to ease into,And your horror in it. And the tannedAlmost green undertinge of your faceShrunk to its wick, your scar lumpish, your plaitedHead pathetically tiny.You waited,Knowing yourself helpless in the tweezersOf the life that judges you, and I sawThe flayed nerve, the unhealable face-woundWhich was all you had for courage.I saw that what you gripped, as you sipped,Were terrors that killed you once already.Now I see, I saw, sitting, the lonelyGirl who was going to die.That blue suit,A mad, execution uniform,Survived your sentence. But then I sat, stilled,Unable to fathom what stilled youAs I looked at you, as I am stilledPermanently now, permanentlyBending so briefly at your open coffin.

On the course of that chariot and those horses.A boy could not hope to control them.You are my son, but mortal. No mortalCould hope to manage those reins.Not even the gods are allowed to touch them....'Our first stretch is almost vertical.Fresh as they are, first thing,It is all the horses can do to get up it.Then on to mid-heaven. TerrifyingTo look down through nothingAt earth and sea, so tiny.My heart nearly struggles out of my bodyAs the chariot sways.Then the plunge towards evening - There you need strength on the reins. Tethys,'Who waits to receive meInto her waters, is always afraidI shall topple -And come tumblingHead over heels in a tangled mass.'Remember, too,That the whole sky is revolvingWith its constellations, its planets.I have to force my course against that - Not to be swept backwards as all else is.'What will you do,Your feet braced at the chariot, the reins in your hands,When you have to counter the pullOf the whistling Poles? When the momentumOf the whole reeling cosmos hauls you off sideways?'...

Tales from Ovid: 24 Passages from the Metamorphoses Quotes

A March CalfRight from the start he is dressed in his best - his blacks and his whitesLittle Fauntleroy - quiffed and glossy,A Sunday suit, a wedding natty get-up,Standing in dunged strawUnder cobwebby beams, near the mud wall,Half of him legs, Shining-eyed, requiring nothing moreBut that mother's milk come back often.Everything else is in order, just as it is.Let the summer skies hold off, for the moment.This is just as he wants it.A little at a time, of each new thing, is best.Too much and too sudden is too frightening -When I block the light, a bulk from space,To let him in to his mother for a suck,He bolts a yard or two, then freezes,Staring from every hair in all directions,Ready for the worst, shut up in his hopeful religion,A little syllogismWith a wet blue-reddish muzzle, for God's thumb.You see all his hopes bustlingAs he reaches between the worn rails towardsThe topheavy oven of his mother.He trembles to grow, stretching his curl-tip tongue -What did cattle ever find hereTo make this dear little fellowSo eager to prepare himself?He is already in the race, and quivering to win -His new purpled eyeball swivel-jerksIn the elbowing push of his plans.Hungry people are getting hungrier,Butchers developing expertise and markets,But he just wobbles his tail - and glistensWithin his dapper profileUnaware of how his whole lineage Has been tied up.He shivers for feel of the world licking his side.He is like an ember - one glowOf lighting himself upWith the fuel of himself, breathing and brightening.Soon he'll plunge out, to scatter his seething joy,To be present at the grass,To be free on the surface of such a wideness,To find himself. To stand. To moo.

Animals Quotes Calf Quotes

When I came to consciousness my whole interest was in wild animals.

There is the inner life of thought which is our world of final reality. The world of memory, emotion, feeling, imagination, intelligence and natural common sense, and which goes on all the time consciously or unconsciously like the heartbeat.There is also the thinking process by which we break into that inner life and capture answers and evidence to support the answers out of it.And that process of raid, or persuasion, or ambush, or dogged hunting, or surrender, is the kind of thinking we have to learn, and if we don’t somehow learn it, then our minds line us like the fish in the pond of a man who can’t fish.

A simple tale, told at the right moment, transforms a person's life with the order its pattern brings to incoherent energies. (Myth and Education)

Winter Pollen: Occasional Prose Quotes

Then everybody wept,Or sat, too exhausted to weep,Or lay, too hurt to weep.

Across clearings, an eye,A widening deepening greenness,Brilliantly, concentratedly,Coming about its own business.

Selected Poems Quotes

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