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Quote by Robert Herrick

Work

Selected poems

This book compiles a selection of poems that showcase the depth and diversity of the author's poetic voice, exploring a range of subjects and employing different literary techniques. more

Author

Robert Herrick
Robert Herrick

Robert Herrick was an English poet, born on August 24, 1591, and died on October 15, 1674. His poetry is known for its concise and lively style, and has been widely appreciated by later generations. more

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“The poet must rethink her writing activities in such a way as to désoublier (to unforget), détaire (to unsilence), déterrer (to unbury), se désaveugler (to unbind), se dessourdier (to undeafen), in an endeavor to displace all that has been repressed, incorporated, appropriated. This is the poet’s way of fighting.”

WritingPoetryFightingFreedomPoetsDisplacementReclamation
Book:Hélène Cixous: Writing the Feminine
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“A, B, C, D in some TIME By: Aron Micko H.B Alarming bomb during wartime. Arguing voices during nighttime. Asking forgiveness in a short time. Avoiding conflicts until the end of time. Bleeding normal people, not in crime. Balancing one world in just one time. Bombing violently during downtime. Beginning destruction in our mealtime. Calming that there is peacetime. Calling for humility to show time. Calculating the peace over time. Collecting for nothing is a part-time. Dreaming of using gadgets every time. Developing our sadness in daytime. Dropping our problems for longtime. Dying obligations in real lifetime. 3/7/22”

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Author:Aron Micko H.B
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“But what was lacking, what was different, I asked myself, listening to the talk? And to answer that question I had to think myself out of the room, back into the past, before the war indeed, and to set before my eyes the model of another luncheon party held in rooms not very far distant from these; but different. Everything was different. Meanwhile the talk went on among the guests, who were many and young, some of this sex, some of that; it went on swimmingly, it went on agreeably, freely, amusingly. And as it went on I set it against the background of that other talk, and as I matched the two together I had no doubt that one was the descendant, the legitimate heir of the other. Nothing was changed; nothing was different save only - here I listened with all my ears not entirely to what was being said, but to the murmur or current behind it. Yes - that was it - the change was there. Before the war at a luncheon party like this people would have said precisely the same things but they would have sounded different, because in those days they were accompanied by a sort of humming noise, not articulate, but musical, exciting, which changed the value of the words themselves. Could one set that humming noise to words? Perhaps with the help of the poets one could. ... The very reason why the poetry excites one to such abandonment, such rapture, is that it celebrates some feeling that one used to have (at luncheon parties before the war perhaps), so that one responds easily, familiarly, without having to check the feeling, or to compare it with any that one has now.”

PoetryPoetsPre War Society
Book:A Room of One’s Own
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