Quotes by Frank O'Hara

Frank O'Hara

A man was the cause of it all. An unarmed man with a weapon.

Causes

Men

Weapons

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and I have mastered the speed and strength which is the armor of the world.

Armor

Speed

World

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And one has eaten and one walks, past the magazines with nudes and the posters for bullfight and the Manhattan Storage Warehouse, which they’ll soon tear down.

Manhattan

Past

Tears

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down the sidewalk where laborers feed their dirty glistening torsos sandwiches and Coca-Cola, with yellow helmets on. They protect them from falling bricks, I guess.

Cities

Dirty

Fall

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Even trees understand me! Good heavens, I lie under them, too, don’t I? I’m just like a pile of leaves.

Heaven

Lying

Tree

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I am always tying up and then deciding to depart.

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I am ashamed of my century for being so entertaining but I have to smile.

Ashamed

Century

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I am not a painter. I am a poet. / Why? I think I would rather be / a painter, but I am not.

Poet

Poetry

Thinking

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I call to the spirits of other lands to make fecund my existence

Inspirational

Land

Spirit

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I can’t even enjoy a blade of grass unless I know there’s a subway handy, or a record store or some other sign that people do not totally regret life. It’s more important to confirm the least sincere. The clouds get enough attention as it is.

Clouds

People

Regret

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American Poetry

Armor

Army

Artificial

Ashamed

Beautiful

Believe

Black And White

Causes

Century

Cities

Clouds

Color

Country

Deals

Details

Differences

Dirty

Events

Excellence

Eye

Fall

Faster

Fighting

Fists

Frowning

Greener

Heart

Heaven

Ideas

Innocence

Innocent

Inspirational

Intangible Quality

Integrity

Interesting

Knives

Land

Laughter

Lazy

Light

Logic

Love You

Lying

Manhattan

Men

Missing

Mother

Movie

Moving

The Future Blueprint

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The Home Therapist: Anti Anxiety

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The Autobiography

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Quotes by Frank O'Hara

Frank O'Hara

A man was the cause of it all. An unarmed man with a weapon.

and I have mastered the speed and strength which is the armor of the world.

And one has eaten and one walks, past the magazines with nudes and the posters for bullfight and the Manhattan Storage Warehouse, which they’ll soon tear down.

down the sidewalk where laborers feed their dirty glistening torsos sandwiches and Coca-Cola, with yellow helmets on. They protect them from falling bricks, I guess.

Even trees understand me! Good heavens, I lie under them, too, don’t I? I’m just like a pile of leaves.

I am always tying up and then deciding to depart.

I am ashamed of my century for being so entertaining but I have to smile.

I am not a painter. I am a poet. / Why? I think I would rather be / a painter, but I am not.

I call to the spirits of other lands to make fecund my existence

I can’t even enjoy a blade of grass unless I know there’s a subway handy, or a record store or some other sign that people do not totally regret life. It’s more important to confirm the least sincere. The clouds get enough attention as it is.

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Topics by Frank O’Hara

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The Future Blueprint

The Home Therapist: Anti Anxiety

The Autobiography

The Behaviour Diary

The Dating Diary

The Relationship Therapist

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