Stanley Kunitz Quotes

• The universe is a continuous web. Touch it at any point and the whole web quivers.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Quiver, Whole, Universe

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• When you look back on a lifetime and think of what has been given to the world by your presence, your fugitive presence, inevitably you think of your art, whatever it may be, as the gift you have made to the world in acknowledgment of the gift you have been given, which is the life itself... That work is not an expression of the desire for praise or recognition, or prizes, but the deepest manifestation of your gratitiude for the gift of life.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Art, Thinking, Expression

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• Be what you are. Give What is yours to give. Have Style. Dare.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Giving, Style, Dare

  Stanley Kunitz (1974). “The terrible threshold: selected poems, 1940-1970”, Harvill Secker

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• I can hardly wait for tomorrow, it means a new life for me each and every day.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Mean, Waiting, New Life

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• We have to learn how to live with our frailties. The best people I know are inadequate and unashamed.

  Stanley Kunitz

  People, Frailty, Knows

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• Poetry is ultimately mythology, the telling of stories of the soul. The old myths, the old gods, the old heroes have never died. They are only sleeping at the bottom of our minds, waiting for our call. We have need of them, for in their sum they epitomize the wisdom and experience of the race.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Hero, Sleep, Race

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• A poem has secrets that the poet knows nothing of.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Secret, Poet, Knows

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• I associate the garden with the whole experience of being alive, and so, there is nothing in the range of human experience that is separate from what the garden can signify in its eagerness and its insistence, and in its driving energy to live -- to grow, to bear fruit.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Garden, Energy, Alive

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• Poetry is language surprised in the act of changing into meaning.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Poetry, Language, Poetry Is

  Stanley Kunitz, Kent P. Ljungquist (2013). “Conversations with Stanley Kunitz”, p.69, Univ. Press of Mississippi

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• I want to write poems that are natural, luminous, deep, spare. I dream of an art so transparent that you can look through and see the world.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Sueño, Arte, Escritura

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• In a murderous time/the heart breaks and breaks/and lives by breaking.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Heart, Heart Break, Break

  Stanley Kunitz, Kent P. Ljungquist (2013). “Conversations with Stanley Kunitz”, p.119, Univ. Press of Mississippi

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• The first task of the poet is to create the person who will write the poems.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Writing, Tasks, Firsts

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• I like an ending that's both a door and a window.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Puertas, Ventanas

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• End with an image and don't explain.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Writing, Ends

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• The poem comes in the form of a blessing, like rapture breaking on the mind.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Blessing, Mind, Form

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• Memory is each man's poet-in-residence.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Memories, Men, Poet

  Stanley Kunitz, Kent P. Ljungquist (2013). “Conversations with Stanley Kunitz”, p.10, Univ. Press of Mississippi

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• We have all been expelled from the Garden, but the ones who suffer most in exile are those who are still permitted to dream of perfection.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Dream, Garden, Perfection

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• You must be careful not to deprive the poem of its wild origin.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Cuidado, cuidado

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• ...few young poets [are] testing their poems against the ear. They're writing for the page, and the page, let me tell you, is a cold bed.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Writing, Bed, Ears

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• I have walked through many lives,
  some of them my own,
  and I am not who I was,
  though some principle of being
  abides, from which I struggle
  not to stray.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Struggle, Principles, My Own

  Stanley Kunitz, “The Layers”

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• The poem in the head is always perfect. Resistance begins when you try to convert it into language.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Perfect, Trying, Resistance

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• How shall the heart be reconciled / To its feast of losses?

  Stanley Kunitz

  Heart, Loss

  Stanley Kunitz, “The Layers”

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• I dropped my hoe and ran into the house and started to write this poem, 'End of Summer.’ It began as a celebration of wild geese. Eventually the geese flew out of the poem, but I like to think they left behind the sound of their beating wings.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Summer, Writing, Thinking

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• The heart breaks and breaks and lives by breaking it is necessary to go through dark and deeper dark and not to turn

  Stanley Kunitz

  Heart, Dark, Break

  Stanley Kunitz (1974). “The terrible threshold: selected poems, 1940-1970”, Harvill Secker

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• Deftly they opened the brain of a child, and it was full of flying dreams.

  Stanley Kunitz

  Dream, Children, Flying

  Stanley Kunitz (1944). “Passport to the war: a selection of poems”

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