Quotes by Mary Coleridge

“We never said farewell, nor even lookedOur last upon each other, for no signWas made when we the linkèd chain unhookedAnd broke the level line.And here we dwell together, side by side,Our places fixed for life upon the chart.Two islands that the roaring seas divideAre not more far apart.””

“. . . The stormy sun was going downIn a stormy sky.Why did you let your eyes so rest on me,And hold your breath between?In all the ages this can never beAs if it had not been.””

“My point in setting these two descriptions up in this way is simply this: the nature of creative activity itself – what the brain does, and the social and psychic conditions needed for its nurture – has remained essentially the same between Thomas’s time and our own. Human beings did not suddenly acquire imagination and intuition with Coleridge, having previously been poor clods. The difference is that whereas now geniuses are said to have creative imagination which they express in intricate reasoning and original discovery, in earlier times they were said to have richly retentive memories, which they expressed in intricate reasoning and original discovery.””

“Like one who, on a lonely road,    Doth walk in fear and dread, And, having once turn'd round, walks on,    And turns no more his head; Because he knows a frightful fiend    Doth close behind him tread.*  * Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner.””

“Two forms of darkness are there. One is Night… And one is Blindness.””

“We were young, we were merry, we were very very wise, And the door stood open at our feast, When there passed us a woman with the West in her eyes, And a man with his back to the East.””

“I have forged me in sevenfold heats A shield from foes and lovers, And no one knows the heart that beats Beneath the shield that covers.””

“Her lips were open ⎼⎼ not a sound came through the parted lines of red.Whatever it was, the hideous woundin silence and in secret bled. No sigh relieved her speechless woe, she had no voice to speak her dread.””

“Well of blackness, all defiling,Full of flattery and reviling,Ah, what mischief hast thou wroughtOut of what was airy thought,What beginnings and what ends,Making and dividing friends!Colours of the rainbow lieIn thy tint of ebony;Many a fancy have I foundBright upon that sombre ground;Cupid plays along the edge,Skimming o'er it like a midge;Niobe in turn appears,Thinning it with crystal tears.False abuse and falser praise,Falsest lays and roundelays!One thing, one alone, I think,Never yet was found in ink;”