There is no greater crime than betrayal by those meant to protect you.
— Elizabeth JenningsWords have the power to heal the wounds of the world.
— Elizabeth JenningsA poet sees the extraordinary in the ordinary.
— Elizabeth JenningsNever to possess, therefore never lose – this is a creed of fire.
— Elizabeth JenningsI have come into the hour of a white healing. Grief's surgery is over and I wear the scar of my remorse and of my feeling.
— Elizabeth JenningsThe most beautiful poetry is often hidden in the most difficult words.
— Elizabeth JenningsA poem is a secret, something precious to be shared only when the heart is ready to reveal it.
— Elizabeth JenningsPoetry is the language of emotions.
— Elizabeth JenningsSince clarity suggests simplicity, and since the simple thing is here inapt, I choose obscurities of tongue and touch, the shadow side of language.
— Elizabeth JenningsWe give names – Autumn and summer, winter, spring – as though to unfasten from the mind our moods and give them outward forms.
— Elizabeth JenningsNever to possess, therefore never lose – This is a creed of fire, the burning of excess, the cold ash of loss.
— Elizabeth JenningsPoetry is a mirror that can help us look at our lives and see ourselves in all of our complexities.
— Elizabeth JenningsThe essence of poetry lies not in its form, but in its depth of meaning.
— Elizabeth JenningsWhat makes a poem timeless is its ability to speak to the heart in all ages and places.
— Elizabeth JenningsIn the fragility of life lies the beauty of poetry.
— Elizabeth JenningsThrough poetry, we can glimpse the infiniteness of the universe.
— Elizabeth JenningsIt was a yellow voice, a high, shrill treble in the nursery, white always and high.
— Elizabeth JenningsI write because I must, because language can express what the heart feels and the mind understands.
— Elizabeth JenningsTo write is to make sense of what has no immediate logic, to find a rhythm in chaos.
— Elizabeth JenningsThe greatest poems are born out of vulnerability.
— Elizabeth JenningsInsects move and men like insects. Why are we set here, frightened of our reflections?
— Elizabeth JenningsThe silence after a poem is often louder than the words themselves.
— Elizabeth Jennings