Ezra Pound

(30 October 1885 – 1 November 1972 / Hailey / Idaho)

Ezra Pound Quotes

  • ''I could I trust starve like a gentleman. It's listed as part of the poetic training, you know.''
    Ezra Pound (1885-1972), U.S. poet, critic. Letter, 1908, to Pound's father. quoted in Humphrey Carpenter, A Serious Character, pt. 2, ch. 1 (1988).
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  • ''I have never known anyone worth a damn who wasn't irascible.''
    Ezra Pound (1885-1972), U.S. poet, critic. Remark made in 1917. quoted in Humphrey Carpenter, A Serious Character, pt. 2, ch. 17 (1988).
  • ''The act of bellringing is symbolic of all proselytizing religions. It implies the pointless interference with the quiet of other people.''
    Ezra Pound (1885-1972), U.S. poet, critic. quoted in Humphrey Carpenter, A Serious Character, pt. 2, ch. 1 (1988).
  • ''A heroic figure ... not wholly to blame for the religion that's been foisted on him.''
    Ezra Pound (1885-1972), U.S. poet, critic. Letter, 1914, to the father of Pound's bride-to-be, Dorothy Shakespear, explaining his reasons for not wanting a church wedding. quoted in Humphrey Carpenter, A Serious Character, pt. 2, ch. 13 (1988).
  • ''Here is a dirty book worth reading ... a bawdy which will be very useful to put Wyndham and J.J. into their proper cubby holes; cause Miller is sore and without kinks.''
    Ezra Pound (1885-1972), U.S. poet, critic. (first published in Paris, 1934), letter, Dec. 1, 1934. Quoted in Karl Shapiro,"The Greatest Living Author," preface, Tropic of Cancer (1961). Referring to Tropic of Cancer, first published in Paris but suppressed in the U.S. until 1961, when it became a bestseller. "Wyndham" was Wyndham Lewis," J.J.," James Joyce.

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Best Poem of Ezra Pound

A Girl

The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast -
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.

Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child - so high - you are,
And all this is folly to the world.

Read the full of A Girl

Histrion

No man hath dared to write this thing as yet,
And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great
At times pass athrough us,
And we are melted into them, and are not
Save reflexions of their souls.
Thus am I Dante for a space and am
One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and thief,
Or am such holy ones I may not write
Lest blasphemy be writ against my name;

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