Kathleen Raine Quotes

• I've read all the books but one
  Only remains sacred: this
  Volume of wonders, open
  Always before my eyes.

  Kathleen Raine

  Book, Eye, Garden

  Kathleen Raine (1989). “Selected Poems”, p.139, SteinerBooks

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• Meanings, moods, the whole scale of our inner experience, finds in nature the 'correspondences' through which we may know our boundless selves.

  Kathleen Raine

  Self, May, Mood

  Kathleen Raine (1989). “Selected Poems”, p.6, SteinerBooks

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• Poetry is not an end in itself but in the service of life; of what use are poems, or any other works of art, unless to enable human lives to be lived with insight of a deeper kind, with more sensitive feelings, more intense sense of the beautiful, with deeper understanding?

  Kathleen Raine

  Beautiful, Art, Understanding

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• De todas las artes, vivir una vida es quizá la mayor; vivir cada momento de la vida con el mismo compromiso imaginativo que el poeta aporta a un campo especial.

  Kathleen Raine

  Art, Commitment, Special

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• Intent on one great love, perfect, Requited and for ever, I missed love's everywhere Small presence, thousand-guised.

  Kathleen Raine

  Perfect, Great Love, Thousand

  Kathleen Raine, “Confessions”

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• Nature is the common, universal language, understood by all.

  Kathleen Raine

  Common, Language, Understood

  Kathleen Raine (1989). “Selected Poems”, p.6, SteinerBooks

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• The work of the artist is to heal the soul.

  Kathleen Raine

  Artist, Soul, Heal

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• O never harm the dreaming world, the world of green, the world of leaves, but let its million palms unfold the adoration of the trees It is a love in darkness wrought obedient to the unseen sun, longer than memory, a thought deeper than the graves of time. The turning spindles of the cells weave a slow forest over space, the dance of love, creation, out of time moves not a leaf, and out of summer, not a shade.

  Kathleen Raine

  Summer, Dream, Memories

  Kathleen Raine (1989). “Selected Poems”, p.19, SteinerBooks

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• ... the poem reminds us of what we ourselves know, but did not know we knew; reminds us, above all, of what we are.

  Kathleen Raine

  Conoce

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• El objetivo de la poesía no era registrar cualquier cosa, limitarse a describir el mundo exterior o algún estado de ánimo subjetivo, sino hablar desde la imaginación del poeta a la imaginación del lector.

  Kathleen Raine

  Imagination, Purpose, Records

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• De todas las cosas creadas la fuente es una, Simple, única como el amor; recuerda La célula y la semilla de la vida, la esfera Que es, de niño, pájaro blanco, y pequeña libélula azul Helecho verde, y la tormentilla dorada de cuatro pétalos La memoria última. Cada célula latente produce un futuro, Despliega su diferente complejidad Como un árbol produce hojas, y teje un destino con trazos de helecho, plumas de ave, o escamas de pez.

  Kathleen Raine

  Life, Memories, Children

  Kathleen Raine (1989). “Selected Poems”, p.55, SteinerBooks

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• Academia is a graveyard of poets.

  Kathleen Raine

  Academia, Poet, Graveyard

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• Chemistry dissolves the goddess in the alembic,
  Venus, the white queen, the universal matrix,
  Down to the molecular hexagons and carbon-chains.

  Kathleen Raine

  Queens, Science, White

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• De niño me convertí en un creyente convencido de los antiguos dioses simplemente porque entre la realidad de los hechos y la realidad de los mitos, elegí el mito... El mito es la verdad de los hechos, no los hechos la verdad del mito.

  Kathleen Raine

  Children, Reality, Facts

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• Being a poet is not a job or a profession but a way of life.

  Kathleen Raine

  Jobs, Way, Poet

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• Sensing us, the trees tremble in their sleep, The living leaves recoil before our fires, Baring to us war-charred and broken branches, And seeing theirs, we for our own destruction weep.

  Kathleen Raine

  War, Sleep, Fire

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• I couldn't claim that I have never felt the urge to explore evil, but when you descend into hell you have to be very careful.

  Kathleen Raine

  Evil, Decision, Hell

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• I make no apology for writing in nature's age-old and unaging language, of whose images we build our paradises, Broceliande and Brindavan, the Forest of Arden, Xanadu, Shelley's Skies, or even Wordsworth's Grasemere, which can be found on no map.

  Kathleen Raine

  Writing, Apology, Sky

  Kathleen Raine (1989). “Selected Poems”, p.6, SteinerBooks

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• And see the peaceful trees extend their myriad leaves in leisured dance- they bear the weight of sky and cloud upon the fountain of their veins.

  Kathleen Raine

  Clouds, Sky, Tree

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• The air is full of a farewell- deserted by the silver lake lies the wild world, overturned. Cities rise where the mountains fell, the furnace where the phoenix burned

  Kathleen Raine

  Lying, Farewell, Lakes

  Kathleen Raine (1989). “Selected Poems”, p.20, SteinerBooks

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• Strangers have crossed the sound, but not the sound of the dark oarsmen Or the golden-haired sons of kings, Strangers whose thought is not formed to the cadence of waves, Rhythm of the sickle, oar and milking pail

  Kathleen Raine

  Kings, Son, Dark

  Kathleen Raine (1989). “Selected Poems”, p.74, SteinerBooks

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