Top 32 Quotes & Sayings by Jean Toomer

Explore popular quotes and sayings by an American novelist Jean Toomer.
Last updated on December 21, 2024.
Jean Toomer

Jean Toomer was an American poet and novelist commonly associated with the Harlem Renaissance, though he actively resisted the association, and modernism. His reputation stems from his novel Cane (1923), which Toomer wrote during and after a stint as a school principal at a black school in rural Sparta, Georgia. The novel intertwines the stories of six women and includes an apparently autobiographical thread; sociologist Charles S. Johnson called it "the most astonishingly brilliant beginning of any Negro writer of his generation". He resisted being classified as a Negro writer, as he identified as "American". For more than a decade Toomer was an influential follower and representative of the pioneering spiritual teacher G.I. Gurdjieff. Later in life he took up Quakerism.

The realization of ignorance is the first act of knowing.
Most novices picture themselves as masters - and are content with the picture. This is why there are so few masters.
Fear is a noose that binds until it strangles. — © Jean Toomer
Fear is a noose that binds until it strangles.
Men try to run life according to their wishes; life runs itself according to necessity.
People mistake their limitations for high standards.
I am not less poet; I am more conscious of all that I am, am not, and might become.
No eyes that have seen beauty ever lose their sight.
We learn the rope of life by untying its knots.
Talk about it only enough to do it. Dream about it only enough to feel it. Think about it only enough to understand it. Contemplate it only enough to be it.
Acceptance of prevailing standards often means we have no standards of our own.
Whatever I believed, I did; I did with my whole heart and mind as far as possible to do so.
Thank everyone who calls out your faults, your anger, your impatience, your egotism; do this consciously, voluntarily.
O singers, resinous and soft your songsAbove the sacred whisper of the pines,Give virgin lips to cornfield concubines,Bring dreams of Christ to dusky cane-lipped throngs.
It takes a well-spent lifetime, and perhaps more, to crystalize in us that for which we exist.
There is no such thing as happiness. Life bends joy and pain, beauty and ugliness, in such a way that no one may isolate them. No one should want to. Perfect joy, or perfect pain, with no contrasting element to define them, would mean a monotony of consciousness, would mean death
We do not posses imagination enough to sense what we are missing.
We start with gifts. Merit comes from what we make of them.
Thunder blossoms gorgeously above our heads, Great, hollow, bell-like flowers
We never know we are beings till we love. And then it is we know the powers and potentialities of human existence.
Perhaps . . . our lot on the earth is to seek and to search. Now and again we find just enough to enable us to carry on. I now doubt that any of us will completely find and be found in this life.
In a sick world, it is the first duty of the artist to get well.
some genius of the South With blood-hot eyes and cane-lipped scented mouth, Surprised in making folk-songs from soul sounds.
One may receive the information but miss the teaching.
But words is like th spots on dice: no matter how y fumbles em,
there's times when they jes wont
come. — © Jean Toomer
But words is like th spots on dice: no matter how y fumbles em, there's times when they jes wont come.
Whats beauty anyway but ugliness if it hurts you?
To understand a new idea, break an old habit.
The only way to seek God is to seek God first. Deny the nayward, affirm the yeaward, be true to those stirrings and motions which He starts in us, refuse priority to all else, and be faithful to the sacred.
Men are apt to idolize or fear that which they cannot understand, especially if it be a woman.
Once a man has tasted creative action, then thereafter, no matter how safely he schools himself in patience, he is restive, acutely dissatisfied with anything else. He becomes as a lover to whom abstinence is intolerable.
If you have heard a Jewish cantor sing, if he has touched you and made your own sorrow seem trivial when compared with his, you will know my feeling when I follow the curves of her profile, like mobile rivers, to their common delta.
Dripping rain like golden honey- And the sweet earth flying from the thunder
O land and soil, red soil and sweet-gum tree, So scant of grass, so profligate of pines
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