Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Each in the cell of himself is almost convinced of his freedom.
The reason can give nothing at all Like the response to desire.
To live in the world but outside of existing conceptions of it.
The United States themselves are essentially the greatest poem.
The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections.
Numbers of the old people cannot read. Those who can seldom do.
I am marooned on a Crag of Superiority in an ocean of soldiers.
Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night.
To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wildflower.
A skylark wounded in the wing, / A cherubim does cease to sing.
General good is the plea of the scoundrel, hypocite, flatterer.
It's certain that fine women eat A crazy salad with their meat.
The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood.
An aged man is but a paltry thing, a tattered coat upon a stick
I wonder anybody does anything at Oxford but dream and remember
Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood's edge
But there is nothing to be done till a horse's head is settled.
Variety's the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.
Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.
Misery still delights to trace Its semblance in another's case.
The earth is all the home I have, the heavens my wide roof-tree
Who writes poetry imbibes honey from the poisoned lips of life.
I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none
Though I be but prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy.
My nature is subdued to what it works in, like the dyer's hand.
God shall be my hope, my stay, my guide and lantern to my feet.
A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.
He's a soldier; and for one to say a soldier lies, is stabbing.
It is a heretic that makes the fire, Not she which burns in it.
So get the start of the majestic world And bear the palm alone.
I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently.
He that keeps not crust nor crum Weary of all, shall want some.
O, how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors.
Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. O these deliberate fools!
Set your heart at rest. The fairyland buys not the child of me.
Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn the power of man.
This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory.
And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love.
Look on beauty, and you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight.
Love is blind, it stops lovers seeing the silly things they do.
They told me I was everything. 'Tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.
My heart is turned to stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand.
Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up Thine own life's means!
But clay and clay differs in dignity, Whose dust is both alike.
Words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them.
If is a custom, More honor'd in the breach than the observance.
The spirit of a youth That means to be of note, begins betimes.
Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all, all shall die.
I have a soul of lead So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
Every good poet includes a critic, but the reverse is not true.