Phrase by 'Paul Engle'

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Soldiers of the American Revolution fought that 18th century war with heavy muskets. In the early 20th century, we kids fought it every Fourth of July not only with exploding powder and shimmering flares, but with all of our senses.

Author: Paul Engle - American Poet
War , American , Revolution , Soldiers

Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.

Author: Paul Engle - American Poet
Words , Poetry , Power , Together

Without vision you don't see, and without practicality the bills don't get paid.

Author: Paul Engle - American Poet
You , See , Without , Vision

You come to know the aches and vanities and tastes and intrigues of an entire neighborhood at a drug store.

Author: Paul Engle - American Poet
You , Know , Come , Neighborhood

Verse is not written, it is bled; Out of the poet's abstract head. Words drip the poem on the page; Out of his grief, delight and rage.

Author: Paul Engle - American Poet
Words , Head , Poet , Grief

When your first marriage goes into tragedy, you become very battle-scarred... I even thought of suicide. Luckily, I had known some happy marriages.

Author: Paul Engle - American Poet
You , Happy , Suicide , Marriage

I knew about holiness, never having missed a Sunday-school class since I started at four years. But if Jews were also religious, how could our neighbor with the grease-grimy shirt use the word 'damn' about them?

Author: Paul Engle - American Poet
Never , Class , Damn , Shirt

The years rolled their brutal course down the hill of time. Still poor, my clothes still smelling of the horse barn, still writing those doubtful poems where too much emotion clashed with too many words.

Author: Paul Engle - American Poet
Time , Words , Clothes , Hill

Our small ears never had such a workout as on the Fourth of July, hearing not only our own bursting crackers but also those of our friends, and often the boom of homemade cannon shot off by daring boys of 16 years, ready to lose a hand if it blew up.

Author: Paul Engle - American Poet
Friends , Never , Lose , Small

Touch was important. The evening of the Third of July we would go around the neighborhood and look at the fireworks others had bought, taking them out of the brown paper sack and handling them cautiously as if they were precious stones. There was envy when we saw sacks with more in them than we had.

Author: Paul Engle - American Poet
Look , Important , Evening , Envy