Because language is the carrier of ideas, it is easy to believe that it should be very little else than such a carrier.

(Louise Bogan (1897-1970), U.S. poet, critic. "A Revolution in European Poetry," (written 1941), published in A Poet's Alphabet (1970).)

You will be again as normal and selfish and heartless as anybody
else.

(Louise Bogan (1897-1970), U.S. poet, critic. Evening in the Sanitarium (l. 15). . . The Blue Estuaries; Poems 1923-1968 [Louise Bogan]. (1968; repr. 1988) Ecco Press.)

The cats will be glad; the fathers feel justified; the mothers
relieved.
The sons and husbands will no longer need to pay the bills.
Childhoods will be put away, the obscene nightmare abated.

(Louise Bogan (1897-1970), U.S. poet, critic. Evening in the Sanitarium (l. 21-23). . . The Blue Estuaries; Poems 1923-1968 [Louise Bogan]. (1968; repr. 1988) Ecco Press.)

The women rest their tired half-healed hearts; they are almost
well.

(Louise Bogan (1897-1970), U.S. poet, critic. Evening in the Sanitarium (l. 6). . . The Blue Estuaries; Poems 1923-1968 [Louise Bogan]. (1968; repr. 1988) Ecco Press.)

It is not possible, for a poet, writing in any language, to protect himself from the tragic elements in human life.... [ellipsis in source] Illness, old age, and death?subjects as ancient as humanity?these are the subjects that the poet must speak of very nearly from the first moment that he begins to speak.

(Louise Bogan (1897-1970), U.S. poet. As quoted in Our Ground Time Here Will be Brief, Epigram, by Maxine Kumin (1982).)

Song, like a wing, tears through my breast, my side,
And madness chooses out my voice again,
Again.

(Louise Bogan (1897-1970), U.S. poet, critic. Cassandra (l. 4-6). . . The Blue Estuaries; Poems 1923-1968 [Louise Bogan]. (1968; repr. 1988) Ecco Press.)

But childhood prolonged, cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell.

(Louise Bogan (1897-1970), U.S. poet and critic. repr. In Selected Criticism: Poetry and Prose (1955). "Childhood's False Eden," (1940). Referring to Katherine Mansfield.)

O God, in the dream the terrible horse began
To paw at the air, and make for me with his blows.

(Louise Bogan (1897-1970), U.S. poet, critic. The Dream (l. 1-2). . . The Blue Estuaries; Poems 1923-1968 [Louise Bogan]. (1968; repr. 1988) Ecco Press.)

Now that I have your heart by heart, I see.

(Louise Bogan (1897-1970), U.S. poet, critic. Song for the Last Act (l. 27). . . The Blue Estuaries; Poems 1923-1968 [Louise Bogan]. (1968; repr. 1988) Ecco Press.)

the anchor weeps
Its red rust downward,

(Louise Bogan (1897-1970), U.S. poet, critic. Song for the Last Act (l. 24-25). . . The Blue Estuaries; Poems 1923-1968 [Louise Bogan]. (1968; repr. 1988) Ecco Press.)