Phrase by 'Eavan Boland'
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I would come to understand there is no poem separable from its source. I began to see that poems are not just an individual florescence. They are also a vast root system growing down into ideas and understandings. Almost unbidden, they tap into the history and evolution of art and language.
Author: Eavan Boland - Irish PoetHistory , Art , Language , Down
There is a recurring temptation for any nation, and for any writer who operates within its field of force, to make an ornament of the past: to turn the losses to victories and to restate humiliations as triumphs.
Author: Eavan Boland - Irish PoetPast , Nation , Force , Temptation
There is nothing settled about a poet's identity. The becoming doesn't stop because the being has been achieved. They proceed together, attached in ways that are hard to be exact about.
Author: Eavan Boland - Irish PoetNothing , Identity , Together , Hard
I didn't know how to weigh ideas about poetry. Nothing in the life I lived as a student - and later as wife and mother at the suburban edge of Dublin - suggested I had the wherewithal to do so. But I did have a unit of measurement. It was the measure of my own life.
Author: Eavan Boland - Irish PoetLife , Poetry , Mother , Wife
Poetry begins where language starts: in the shadows and accidents of one person's life.
Author: Eavan Boland - Irish PoetLife , Poetry , Language , Shadows
I still believe many poets begin in fear and hope: fear that the poetic past will turn out to be a monologue rather than a conversation. And hope that their voice can be heard as that past turns into a future.
Author: Eavan Boland - Irish PoetFuture , Fear , Believe , Hope
New voices in an old art - and women poets have been that for much more than a century - do not diminish the art through the category. They enrich it. They renew it with common quandaries of craft and innovation. The category simply allows the quandaries to be seen more clearly.
Author: Eavan Boland - Irish PoetNew , Art , Women , Innovation
When I was young, I struggled with authorship: with everything the word meant and failed to mean. Irish poetry was heavy with custom. Sometimes at night, when I tried to write, a ghost hand seemed to hold mine. Where could my life, my language fit in?
Author: Eavan Boland - Irish PoetLife , Poetry , My Life , Night
In those years of the Fifties, in London and New York, I lived, without knowing it, in a time when the profoundest changes were happening: when a radical alteration was getting ready to happen in the way a society saw young girls. And, as a consequence, in the way they saw themselves.
Author: Eavan Boland - Irish PoetTime , New , Society , Way
I was a foggy, erratic teenager: a fifth child, the last in the queue for conversation or attention.
Author: Eavan Boland - Irish PoetAttention , Last , Child , Conversation