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Quote by Muriel Rukeyser

“Slowly I would get to pen and paper, Make my poems for others unseen and unborn. In the day I would be reminded of those men and women, Brave, setting up signals across vast distances, considering a nameless way of living, of almost unimagined values.”

Quote by Muriel Rukeyser

Work

The collected poems of Muriel Rukeyser

This compilation includes a wide array of Muriel Rukeyser's poems, reflecting her exploration of social issues, personal experiences, and the human condition. Rukeyser's work is known for its emotional depth and innovative use of language. more

Author

Muriel Rukeyser
Muriel Rukeyser

Muriel Rukeyser was an American poet known for her innovative use of language and her exploration of social and political themes. Born on December 15, 1913, she was a prominent figure in the literary world, particularly during the mid-20th century. Rukeyser's work often reflected her deep engagement with the human condition and her commitment to social justice. more

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“The ultimate aim of politics is not politics, but the activities which can be practised within the political framework of the State. Therefore an effective statement of these activities - e.g. science, art, religion - is in itself a declaration of ultimate aims around which the political means will crystallise... a society with no values outside of politics is a machine carrying its human cargo, with no purpose in its institutions reflecting their care, eternal aspirations, loneliness, need for love.”

“In railway halls, on pavements near the traffic, They beg, their eyes made big by empty staring And only measuring Time , like the blank clock. No, I shall weave no tracery of pen-ornament To make them birds upon my singing tree: Time merely drives these lives which do not live As tides push rotten stuff along the shore.”

“I think continually of those who were truly great . Who, from the womb, remembered the soul 's history Through corridors of light where the hours are suns , Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition Was that their lips, still touched with fire , Should tell of the spirit clothed from head to foot in song .”

“What is precious is never to forget, The delight of the blood drawn from ancient springs, Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth; Never to deny its pleasure in the simple morning light, Nor its grave evening demand for love; Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother, With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.”