Quotes
Quotes - Browning
There shall never be one lost good! What was shall live as before; The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound; What was good shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.
At painful times, when composition is impossible and reading is not enough, grammars and dictionaries are excellent for distraction.
O, brothers! let us leave the shame and sin Of taking vainly in a plaintive mood, The holy name of Grief--holy herein, That, by the grief of One, came all our good.
Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not More grief than ye can weep for. That is well-- That is light grieving!
What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up, And be discharged, and straight wound up anew? No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets; May learn a thousand things, not twice the same.
Dear, dead women, with such hair, too--what's become of all the gold Used to hang and brush their bosoms?
God keeps a niche In Heaven, to hold our idols; and albeit He brake them to our faces, and denied That our close kisses should impair their white,-- I know we shall behold them raised, complete, The dust swept from their beauty, glorified, New Memnons singing in the great God-light.
Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?
Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?
Then I cast loose my buff coat, each halter let fall, Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer; Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise bad or good, 'Til at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood.
Love, hope, fear, faith--these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character.
Ignorance is not innocence but sin.
If I stoop Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud, It is but for a time; I press God's lamp Close to my breast; its splendor soon or late Will pierce the gloom; I shall emerge one day.
From the sprinkled isles, Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea.
Italy, my Italy! Queen Mary's saying serves for me-- (When fortune's malice Lost her Calais)-- Open my heart and you will see Graved inside of it, "Italy."
That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow But thinking of a wreath, . . . I like such ivy; bold to leap a height 'Twas strong to climb! as good to grow on graves As twist about a thyrsus; pretty too (And that's not ill) when twisted round a comb.
Wall must get the weather stain Before they grow the ivy.
Capacity for joy Admits temptation.
God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.
Whenever a separation is made between liberty and justice, neither, in my opinion, is safe.
Thy lips which spake wrong counsel, I kiss close.
I was betrothed that day; I wore a troth kiss on my lips I could not give away.
First time he kiss'd me, he but only kiss'd The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And ever since it grew more clean and white.
The music soars within the little lark, And the lark soars.
So free we seem, so fettered fast we are.
