Mary Oliver Quotes

Winter walks up and down the town swinging his censer, but no smoke or sweetness comes from it, only...

Animals praise a good day, a good hunt. They praise rain if they're thirsty. That's prayer. They don...

One thing I do know is that poetry, to be understood, must be clear.

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

There are things you can’t reach. ButYou can reach out to them, and all day long.The wind, the bird ...

It's very important to write things down instantly, or you can lose the way you were thinking out a ...

Last nightthe rainspoke to meslowly, saying, what joyto come fallingout of the brisk cloud, to be ha...

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting readyto break my heartas the sun rises, as t...

Still, what I want in my lifeis to be willingto be dazzled—to cast aside the weight of factsand mayb...

Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, w...

Because of the dog's joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift. It is not the least reas...

A carpenter is hired- a roof repaired, a porch built. Everything that can be fixed. June, July, Augu...

Athletes take care of their bodies. Writers must similarly take care of the sensibility that houses ...

It's not a competition, it's a doorway.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom,...

It is better for the heart to break, than not to break.

I know many lives worth living.

To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.

Sometimes I dreamthat everything in the world is here, in my room, in a great closet, named and orde...

Poetry is meant to be heard.

Look, hasn't my body already felt like the body of a flower?

People want poetry. They need poetry. They get it. They don't want fancy work.

To interrupt the writer from the line of thought is to wake the dreamer from the dream. The dreamer ...

Imagination is better than a sharp instrument. To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work...

The Fourth Sign of The Zodiac (Part 3) by Mary OliverI know, you never intended to be in this world....

I went down not long agoto the Mad River, under the willowsI knelt and drank from that crumpled flow...

Poetry is a life-cherishing force.

We all have a hungry heart, and one of the things we hunger for is happiness. So as much as I possib...

Wild GeeseYou do not have to be good.You do not have to walk on your kneesfor a hundred miles throug...

DogfishI wantedThe past to go away, I wantedTo leave it, like another country; I wantedMy life to cl...

Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes...

But very little of it can do morethan start you on your way to the real, unimaginablydifficult goal ...

The man who has many answersis often foundin the theaters of informationwhere he offers, graciously,...

How perfect to be aboard a ship withmaybe a hundred years still in my pocket.But it's late, for all ...

It's very important to write things down instantly, or you can lose the way you were thinking out a ...

Every springI hear the thrush singingin the glowing woodshe is only passing through.His voice is dee...

Sometimes breaking the rules is just extending the rules

All night my heart makes its wayhowever it can over the rough groundof uncertainties, but only until...

The sea can do craziness, it can do smooth, it can lie down like silk breathing or toss havoc shorew...

We all have a hungry heart, and one of the things we hunger for is happiness. So as much as I possib...

the stars began to burnthrough the sheets of clouds,and there was a new voicewhich you slowlyrecogni...

And now you'll be telling storiesof my coming backand they won't be false, and they won't be truebut...

Why should I have been surprised?Hunters walk the forestwithout a sound.The hunter, strapped to his ...

This is what I have. The dull hangover of waiting, the blush of my heart on the damp grass,the flowe...

I would like people to remember of me, howinexhaustible was her mindfulness.

Do you think the wren ever dreams of a better house?

EVERY DOG’S STORYI have a bed, my very own.It’s just my size.And sometimes I like to sleep alonewith...

No, I mean really listen. Here's a story, and you don't have to visit manyhouses to find it. One per...

Come with me into the woods where spring isadvancing, as it does, no matter what,not being singular ...

And it is exceedingly short, his galloping life. Dogs die so soon. I have my stories of that grief, ...

Because of the dog's joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift. It is not the least reas...

Be prepared. A dog is adorable and noble.A dog is a true and loving friend. A dogis also a hedonist.

But I want to extol not the sweetness nor the placidity of the dog, but the wilderness out of which ...

Listen, whatever you see and love—that’s where you are.

I wanted the past to go away, I wantedto leave it, like another country; I wantedmy life to close, a...

I wanted the past to go away, I wanted to leave it, like another country; I wanted my life to close,...

Poem (the spirit likes to dress up) The spirit likes to dress up like this: ten fingers, ten toes,sh...

Let me keep my distance, always, from those who think they have the answers.Let me keep company alwa...

I want to write something so simply about love or about pain that even as you are reading you feel i...

MYSTERIES, YES Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to be understood. How grass can be nouris...

The Pond"August of another summer, and once again I am drinking the sunand the lilies again are spre...

It does no good to bark at the television,I said. I’ve tried it too. So he stopped.

Still, what I want in my lifeis to be willingto be dazzled—to cast aside the weight of factsand mayb...

I mean, by such flightiness, something that feels unsatisfied at the center of my life — that makes ...

Of course! the path to heavendoesn't lie down in flat miles.It's in the imaginationwith which you pe...

Look, the treesare turningtheir own bodiesinto pillarsof light,are giving off the richfragrance of c...

And then I feel the sun itselfas it blazes over the hills,like a million flowers on fire --clearly I...

to live in this worldyou must be ableto do three thingsto love what is mortal;to hold itagainst your...

I stood like Adam in his lonely gardenOn that first morning, shaken out of sleep,Rubbing his eyes, l...

When it’s over, I want to say: all my lifeI was a bride married to amazement.I was a bridegroom, tak...

I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be...

So come to the pond, or the river of your imagination, or the harbor of your longing,and put your li...

You do not have to be good.You do not have to walk on your kneesfor a hundred miles through the dese...

The poet dreams of the mountainSometimes I grow weary of the days, with all their fits and starts.I ...

Percy wakes me (fourteen)Percy wakes me and I am not ready.He has slept all night under the covers.N...

The sweetness of dogs (fifteen) What do you say, Percy? I am thinkingof sitting out on the sand to w...

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives ...

How heron comesIt is a negligence of the mindnot to notice how at duskheron comes to the pond andsta...

When When it’s over, it’s over, and we don’t know any of us, what happens then.So I try not to miss ...

On the beach, at dawn:Four small stones clearlyHugging each other.How many kinds of loveMight there ...

Tom Dancer’s gift of a whitebark pine coneYou never know What opportunity Is going to travel to you...

In your handsThe dog, the donkey, surely they know They are alive.Who would argue otherwise?But now,...

oxygen Everything needs it: bone, muscles, and even, while it calls the earth its home, the soul. So...

Oh Lord of melons, of mercy, though I am not ready, nor worthy, I am climbing towards you.

Poetry isn't a profession, it's a way of life. It's an empty basket; you put your life into it and m...

Attention is the beginning of devotion.

I learned from Whitman that the poem is a temple -- or a green field -- a place to enter, and in whi...

I learned from Whitman that the poem is a temple--or a green field--a place to enter, and in which t...

Language is rich, and malleable. It is a living, vibrant material, and every part of a poem works in...

Intellectual work sometimes, spiritual work certainly, artistic work always — these are forces that ...

I could not be a poet without the natural world. Someone else could. But not me. For me the door to ...

You are young. So you know everything. You leap into the boat and begin rowing. But, listen to me. W...

DAISIESIt is possible, I suppose that sometimewe will learn everythingthere is to learn: what the wo...

Though I play at the edges of knowing, truly I know our part is not knowing, but looking, and touchi...

You must not ever stop being whimsical. And you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility ...

I read the way a person might swim, to save his or her life. I wrote that way too.

Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.

To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it again...

Why I Wake Early Hello, sun in my face.Hello, you who made the morningand spread it over the fieldsa...

I feel the terror of idleness,like a red thirst.Death isn't just an idea.

I have a little dog who likes to nap with me.He climbs on my body and puts his face in my neck.He is...