Inspiration is the windfall from hard work and focus. Muses are too unreliable to keep on the payroll.
Sappho is a great poet because she is a lesbian, which gives her erotic access to the muse. Sappho and the homosexual-tending Emily Dickinson stand alone above women poets, because poetry's mystical energies are ruled by a hierach requiring the sexual subordination of her petitioners. Women have achieved more as novelists than as poets because the social novel operates outside the ancient marriage of myth and eroticism.camille paglia
Who loves not music and the heavenly muse, That man God hates.john dowland
So in all humours sportively I range; My muse is rightly of the English strain, That cannot long one fashion entertain.Michael Drayton
Their name, their years, spelt by the unlettered muse, The place of fame and elegy supply: And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.thomas gray
The sun has gane down o'er the lofty Benlomond, And left the red clouds to preside o'er the scene, While lanely I stray, in the calm simmer gloamin', To muse on sweet Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane. How sweet is the brier wi' its saft faulding blossom, And sweet is the birk, wi' its mantle o'green; Yet sweeter, and fairer, and dear to this bosom, Is lovely young Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane.
To a historian libraries are food, shelter, and even muse.
Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse,And every conqueror creates a muse.Edmund Waller
Webster is not concerned with humanity. He is the poet of bile and brainstorm, the sweet singer of apoplexy; ideally, one feels, he would have had all his characters drowned in a sea of cold sweat. His muse drew nourishment from Bedlam, and might, a few centuries later, have done the same from Belsen.john webster
When inspiration does not come, I go for a walk, go to the movie, talk to a friend, let go... The muse is bound to return again, especially if I turn my back!
For pointed satire I would Buckhurst choose, The best good man with the worst-natured muse.wilmot, john, 2nd earl of rochester
Whether the darken'd room to muse invite, Or whiten'd wall provoke the skew'r to write; In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint, Like Lee or Budgel I will rhyme and print.Alexander Pope
Some future strain, in which the muse shall tell How science dwindles, and how volumes swell. How commentators each dark passage shun, And hold their farthing candle to the sun.Edward Young
Dulness! whose good old cause I yet defend, With whom my muse began, with whom shall end.Alexander Pope
Let others drink thee freely; and desire Thee and their lips espous'd; while I admire, And love thee; but not taste thee. Let my muse Fail of thy former helps; and only use Her inadult'rate strength: what's done by me Hereafter, shall smell of the lamp, not thee.Robert Herrick
The best-humour'd man, with the worst-humour'd muse.Oliver Goldsmith
Alas! what boots it with incessant care To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade, And strictly meditate the thankless muse? Were it not better done as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair? Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days; But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorrèd shears, And slits the thin-spun life.john milton
Then cease, bright nymph! to mourn thy ravish'd hair Which adds new glory to the shining sphere; Not all the tresses that fair head can boast Shall draw such envy as the lock you lost, For after all the murders of your eye, When, after millions slain, yourself shall die; When those fair suns shall set, as set they must, And all those tresses shall be laid in dust, This Lock the muse shall consecrate to fame, And 'midst the stars inscribe Belinda's name.Alexander Pope
Within a bony labyrinthean cave, Reached by the pulse of the aërial wave, This sibyl, sweet, and Mystic Sense is found, muse, that presides o'er all the Powers of Sound.
For his chaste muse employed her heaven-taught lyre None but the noblest passions to inspire, Not one immoral, one corrupted thought, One line, which dying he could wish to blot.
Green, slender, leaf-clad holly-boughs Were twisted gracefu' round her brows, I took her for some Scottish muse, By that same token, An' come to stop those reckless vows, Would soon be broken.Robert Burns
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