My father used to say,
"Superior people never make long visits,
have to be shown Longfellow's grave
or the glass flowers at Harvard.
Self-reliant like the cat-
that takes its prey to privacy,
the mouse's limp tail hanging like a shoelace from its mouth-
they sometimes enjoy solitude,
and can be robbed of speech
by speech which has delighted them.
The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence;
not in silence, but restraint."
Nor was he insincere in saying, "Make my house your inn."
Inns are not residences.


About this Poem
"Silence" originally appeared in Marianne Moore's collection of poetry "Observations," which was published by the Dial Press in 1924.


About Marianne Moore
Marianne Moore was born near St. Louis, Mo., on November 15, 1887. Among her many honors were the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize. She died in New York City on February 5, 1972.

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This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day, www.poets.org. Distributed by King Features Syndicate