Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Arthur Larkin CH CBE FRSLwas an English poet, novelist and librarian. His first book of poetry, The North Ship, was published in 1945, followed by two novels, Jilland A Girl in Winter, and he came to prominence in 1955 with the publication of his second collection of poems, The Less Deceived, followed by The Whitsun Weddingsand High Windows. He contributed to The Daily Telegraph as its jazz critic from 1961 to 1971, articles gathered in All What Jazz: A...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth9 August 1922
memories chance
Any memory for the most part depending on chance.
thinking people pubs
I'd like to think...that people in pubs would talk about my poems
air blue glasses
And immediately Rather than words comes the thought of high windows: The sun-comprehending glass, And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.
writing modern-novel ends
Many modern novels have a beginning, a muddle and an end.
writing self two
When I get sent manuscripts from aspiring poets, I do one of two things: if there is no stamped self-addressed envelope, I throw it into the bin.-If there is, I write and tell them to f**k off.
writing sober feds
To write you must be warm, fed, loved and sober.
writing kind fantasy
Dear, I can't write, it's all a fantasy: a kind of circling obsession.
writing sleep organization
I can't understand these chaps who go round American universities explaining how they write poems: It's like going round explaining how you sleep with your wife.
children growing-up simple
Above all, though, children are linked to adults by the simple fact that they are in process of turning into them. For this they may be forgiven much. Children are bound to be inferior to adults, or there is no incentive to grow up.
home existence elsewhere
Here no elsewhere underwrites my existence.
kids men hands
Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can, and don't have any kids yourself.
love dream hands
I wonder love can have already set In dreams, when we've not met More times than I can number on one hand.
believe add phrases
I'm terrified of the thought of time passing (or whatever is meant by that phrase) whether I 'do' anything or not. In a way I may believe, deep down, that doing nothing acts as a brake on 'time's - it doesn't of course. It merely adds the torment of having done nothing, when the time comes when it really doesn't matter if you've done anything or not.