Skip to content

The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.
Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.

— Seamus Heaney

Another quote →

More quotes by Seamus Heaney

I rhyme
To see myself, to set the darkness echoing.

Believe in miracles
and cures and healing wells.

I don't mean sound as decoration or elaboration, but the actual cadence that moves the thing along.

In one sense the efficacy of poetry is nil – no lyric has ever stopped a tank. In another sense it is unlimited.

History says don't hope
On this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up
And hope and history rhyme.

All Seamus Heaney quotes →

Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Seamus Heaney (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.