Quotes by Robinson Jeffers
- 1
- 2
Imagination, the traitor of the mind, has taken my solitude and slain it.
The deep dark-shining Pacific leans on the land Feeling his cold strength To the outmost margins.
Cruelty is a part of nature, at least of human nature, but it is the one thing that seems unnatural to us.
Look how noble the world is, the lonely-flowing waters, the secret-keeping stones, the flowing sky.
How shall the dead taste the deep treasure they have?
It is good for man To try all changes, progress and corruption, powers, peace and anguish, not to go down the dinosaur's way Until all his capacities have been explored: and it is good for him To know that his needs and nature are no more changed, in fact, in ten thousand years than the beaks of eagles.
Pleasure is the carrot dangled to lead the ass to market or the precipice.
Sports and gallantries, the stage, the arts, the antics of dancers, The exuberant voices of music,...
Only the drum is confident, it thinks the world has not changed;
And life, the flicker of men and moths and the wolf on the hill, Though furious for continuance, passionately feeding, passionately...
O passionately at peace when will that tide draw shoreward,
And you, America, that passion made you. You were not born to prosperity, you were born to love freedom....
The heads of strong old age are beautiful beyond all grace of youth.
I tell you solemnly That I was sorry to have disappointed him. To be eaten by that beak and become part of him, to share those wings and ...
all the arts lose virtue Against the essential reality...
He is strong and pain is worse to the strong, incapacity is worse.
Love your eyes that can see, your mind that can Hear the music, the thunder of the wings. Love the wild swan.
Be great, carve deep your heel-marks. The states of the next age will no doubt remember you, and edge...
Life is grown sweeter and lonelier, And death is no evil.
man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun Die blind and blacken to the heart:...
Unmeasured power, incredible passion, enormous craft: no thought apparent but burns darkly...
The future is ever a misted landscape, no man foreknows it, but at cyclical turns There is a change felt in the rhythm of events:
The love of freedom has been the quality of Western man.
The mad girl with the staring eyes and long white fingers Hooked in the stones of the wall,
Civilization is a transient sickness.
- 1
- 2
