Mark Strand Quotes That Will Inspire You to Live Your Best Life

1. Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.There is no happiness like mine.I have been eating poetry. Selected Poems

2. Even this late it happens:the coming of love, the coming of light. Selected Poems

3. From the shadow of domes in the city of domes,A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your roomAnd made its way to the arm of the chair where you, looking upFrom your book, saw it the moment it landed. That's allThere was to it. Blizzard of One

4. In a fieldI am the absenceof field.This isalways the case.Wherever I amI am what is missing. New Selected Poems

5. Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.There is no happiness like mine.I have been eating poetry. Selected Poems

6. My NameOnce when the lawn was a golden green and the marbled moonlit trees rose like fresh memorials in the scented air, and the whole countryside pulsed with the chirr and murmur of insects, I lay in the grass, feeling the great distances open above me, and wondered what I would become and where I would find myself, and though I barely existed, I felt for an instant that the vast star-clustered sky was mine, and I heard my name as if for the first time, heard it the way one hears the wind or the rain, but faint and far off as though it belonged not to me but to the silence from which it had come and to which it would go. Man and Camel

7. Not every man knows what he shall sing at the end The Continuous Life

8. Sometimes he did not know if he slept or just thought about sleep.

9. The Coming of LightEven this late it happens:the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air.Even this late the bones of the body shine and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath. The Late Hour

10. These wrinkles are nothingThese gray hairs are nothing,This stomach which sagswith old food, these bruisedand swollen ankles, my darkening brain,they are nothing.I am the same boymy mother used to kiss.

11. Those hours given over to basking in the glow of an imaginedfuture, of being carried away in streams of promise by a love ora passion so strong that one felt altered forever and convincedthat even the smallest particle of the surrounding world wascharged with purpose of impossible grandeur; ah, yes, andone would look up into the trees and be thrilled by the wind-loosened river of pale, gold foliage cascading down and by thehigh, melodious singing of countless birds; those moments, somany and so long ago, still come back, but briefly, like firefliesin the perfumed heat of summer night. Almost Invisible: Poems

12. When we walk in the sunour shadows are like barges of silence.