We ought not to extract pernicious honey from poison blossoms of misrepresentation and mendacious half-truth, to pamper the course appetite of bigotry and self-love.
Samuel Taylor ColeridgeRead
Poetry has been to me its own exceeding great reward; it has given me the habit of wishing to discover the good and beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me.
Interpretation
Poetry enriches life by encouraging an appreciation for beauty and goodness in everything around us.
In this quote, Samuel Taylor Coleridge reflects on the transformative power of poetry in his life. He views poetry not just as a literary form, but as an enriching experience that fosters a desire to seek out beauty and goodness in the world. This perspective suggests that engaging with art can lead to a deeper understanding and appreciation of life itself.
In practice
In a speech at a literary festival to inspire budding poets.
We ought not to extract pernicious honey from poison blossoms of misrepresentation and mendacious half-truth, to pamper the course appetite of bigotry and self-love.
Common sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.
And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.
Often do the spirits stride on before the event; and in today already walks tomorrow.
Mr. Lyell's system of geology is just half the truth, and no more. He affirms a great deal that is true, and he denies a great deal which is equally true; which is the general characteristic of all systems not embracing the whole truth.
To believe and to understand are not diverse things, but the same things in different periods of growth.
I think what gets a poem going is an initiating line. Sometimes a first line will occur, and it goes nowhere; but other times - and this, I think, is a sense you develop - I can tell that the line wants to continue. If it does, I can feel a sense of momentum - the poem finds a reason for continuing.
If somebody wants to sing my songs after I'm gone, nobody will be happier than my dead body.
And then there came the pounding of another drum, as if another giant were coming yards behind him, and each giant, intent on his own drum, gave no notice to the rhythm of the other. The sound grew louder and louder until it seemed to fill not just my hearing but all my senses, to be throbbing in my lips and fingers, in the flesh of my temples, in my veins.
If I could say with words what my dances express, I wouldn’t have a reason to dance.
I am a novelist. I traffic in subtleties, and my goal in writing a novel is to leave the reader not knowing what to think. A good novel shouldn't have a point.
My hope is that witnessing the beautiful harmony created by merging different musical melodies will help people realize the beauty in our own differences.
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