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Sonnets Quotes

Browse 27 quotes about Sonnets.

Sonnets Quotes

“Sonnet 2000 (My Real Legacy) My real legacy is not the books or the sonnets, but the unbending humanitarians I've set on fire. The literature is just a vessel for the spirit, spirit of a world united, in reason and in care. Ceaseless slurs are daily occurrence, Mindless hate indeed plenty I face. Yet I've kept all vengeance in check, Never have I ever been lost in bitterness. I am the line that I've drawn for myself, Can't tell you how to behave, how not. I stand steady as the human impossible, Rest is up to you, what to take, what not. I don't come from wealth, nor could I amass any, I set out with zero dollars, and no publicity. World integration is my life's first madness - this madness I leave for you, now it's your duty.”

Social JusticeHumanismHumanitarianOnenessHumanitarianismPeace ActivistHate CrimeNaskareansNaskarismSonnets
Book:Azad Earth Army: When The World Cries Blood
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“Sonnets to Write Before I Sleep (The Sonnet) When I finished my first 1000 sonnets, I felt, now I shall take it slow. But now at the finishing of second 1000, I feel, I gotta write thousands more! The first thousand took me four years, the second thousand took me two years, all without an ounce of industry support, I am the sole maker of my literary empire. Sonnets are my vessel of reason, Sonnets are my bearer of justice. Sonnets are my medium of divinity, I'm my sonnets - antidote to malice. Proof of poetry is in the spirit, Proof of justice is among the just. Worlds to unite before I sleep, Proof of life is in standing guard.”

Social JusticeHumanismHumanitarianDivinityInterfaithNaskarNaskarismAbhijit NaskarSonnetsPoet Who Wrote The Most Sonnets
Book:The Humanitarian Dictator
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“if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it, for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe. O! if, I say, you look upon this verse, When I perhaps compounded am with clay, Do not so much as my poor name rehearse; But let your love even with my life decay; Lest the wise world should look into your moan, And mock you with me after I am gone.”

LoveDeathMemoryForgettingSonnets
Author:William Shakespeare
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“In the case of Michel Angelo we have an artist who with brush and chisel portrayed literally thousands of human forms; but with this peculiarity, that while scores and scores of his male figures are obviously suffused and inspired by a romantic sentiment, there is hardly one of his female figures that is so,—the latter being mostly representative of woman in her part as mother, or sufferer, or prophetess or poetess, or in old age, or in any aspect of strength or tenderness, except that which associates itself especially with romantic love. Yet the cleanliness and dignity of Michel Angelo's male figures are incontestable, and bear striking witness to that nobility of the sentiment in him, which we have already seen illustrated in his sonnets.”

MenLoveRomanceWomenModelsOld AgeMothersPoetsHomosexualityArtistsStatuesProphetsSonnetsMichelangeloHomoeroticism
Book:The Intermediate Sex: A Study Of Some Transitional Types Of Men And Women
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“Saturday Sonnet by Stewart Stafford The Bard once wrote that love is blind, Desire’s muslin cloth veils the eyes behind, As a hog for truffles nosing in dirt, The human sniffs out a way to flirt, Flippant words become overture, And a dungeon-dweller emerges pure, Love’s great story blossoming anew, Past indiscretions in a penitent’s pew, Hearts as one, a confluence of minds, Time to think of the tie that binds, Sure of footing and glad of heart Wheels turning on a bridal cart, Handsome husband, pretty wife, Set out together in this thing called life. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

PoetryPoemWeddingFlirtingSonnetLove PoemLove PoemsLove PoetryPoems On LoveSonnets
Author:Stewart Stafford
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“والآن‎ في فصل الحنينِ وحين يعرى حزن أيلول ‎ لأنسام الشتاءْ ‎ ينتابني وجعٌ وأسئلةٌ لماذا الحزن مع عين السماءْ؟ ‎ ولأيّ قلبٍ كلّما انهمرت سماءٌ ‎ فوق أرضٍ ‎أشتهي حبّاً مضى... ‎ وتفوحُ رائحةُ النساءْ…”

Mahdi MansourBalladEpic PoetryOdeSonnetsGhazalVillanelleClassic PoetryRondel
Author:Mahdi Mansour
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“كالنظراتِ الحرةِ تبحرُ أشرعة الصيّادينْ من غيرِ إشاراتٍ من غير قوانينْ! فلماذا هذا البرّ طريقي الإلزاميّ إلى عينيكِ، لماذا توقفني كفّاكِ، وشرطةُ أحلامكِ، والمستقبل والماضي، ولماذا في سيري نحوكِ تقطعُ دربي مدنٌ من خلف البحرِ وعشّاقٌ من خلف العمرِ وأسرابُ مجانينْ وأنا لا شمسَ لعمري غير الشَّعر الغجريّ المتموّج، لا ليلَ سوى حضنكِ... لا أرض سواك أعيش لها وبها، أزرع فيها أيامي... صوتُك آلهة من موسيقى... وشفاهكِ دِينْ…”

Mahdi MansourVisual PoetrySonnetsExperimental PoetryClassic PoetryCut Up PoetryMagnetic PoetryRemix Poetry
Author:Mahdi Mansour
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“If death is like a sonnet then life would be a haiku. The sonnet, a lyrical poem, the beauty and magic with the last breath~ love, words fading and floating off into the abyss that is space whilst our everyday lives or days more important than normal become just a mere whisper in only a few short syllables through which we convey with our hearts the truth of the universe in a single moment briefly.”

LifeTruthPoetryHaikuR M EngelhardtSonnets
Author:R.M. Engelhardt
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“IRELAND Spenserian Sonnet abab, bcbc, cdcd, ee What is it about the Kelly velvet hillsides and the hoary avocado sea, The vertical cliffs where the Gulf Stream commences its southern bend, Slashing like a sculptor gone mad or a rancorous God who’s angry, Heaving galaxies of lichen shrouded stones for potato farmers to tend, Where the Famine and the Troubles such haunting aspects lend, Music and verse ring with such eloquence in their whimsical way, Let all, who can hear, rejoice as singers’ intonations mend, Gaelic souls from Sligo and Trinity Green to Cork and Dingle Bay, Where fiddle, bodhran, tin whistle, and even God, indulge to play, Ould sod to Beckett, Wilde and Yeats, Heaney and James Joyce, In this verdant, welcoming land, ‘tis the poet who rules the day. Where else can one hear a republic croon in so magnificent a voice? Primal hearts of Celtic chieftains pulse, setting inspiration free, In genial confines of chic caprice, we’re stirred by synchronicity.”

IrelandSonnetsSt Patrick S Day
Book:Sonnets from New England: Love Songs
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