Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
I am like the heaven, like the moon, like a candle by your glow; I am all reason, all love, all soul, by your soul.
The gifts of lovers to one another are, in respect to love, nothing but forms; yet, they testify to invisible love.
Intellect in its effort to explain Love got stuck in the mud like an ass. Love alone could explain love and loving.
And patience flees my heart, And reason flees my mind. Oh, how drunk can I get to be, Without your love's security?
If one cannot accept failure and scorn, how is he to make his art? It's like wanting to go to heaven without dying.
Poor comfort all comfort: once what the mouse had spared Was enough, was delight, there where the heart was at home
A dog will never forget the crumb thou gavest him, though thou mayst afterwards throw a hundred stones at his head.
There is no great difficulty to separate the soul from the body, but it is not so easy to restore life to the dead.
Christianity is not a theory or speculation, but a life; not a philosophy of life, but a life and a living process.
Real pain can alone cure us of imaginary ills. We feel a thousand miseries till we are lucky enough to feel misery.
God is everywhere! the God who framed Mankind to be one, mighty family, Himself our Father, and the world our home.
Dryden 's genius was of that sort which catches fire by its own motion; his chariot wheels get hot by driving fast.
The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.
He went like one that hath been stunn'd, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man He rose the morrow morn.
I shall not let a sorrow die Until I find the heart of it, Nor let a wordless joy go by Until it talks to me a bit.
Down the hill I went, and then, I forgot the ways of men, For night-scents, heady and damp and cool Wakened ecstasy
My beard grows down to my toes, I never wears no clothes, I wraps my hair Around my bare, And down the road I goes.
My career means, if you're a non-Indian writing about Indians, at least there's one Indian in your rearview mirror.
There are all kinds of addicts, I guess. We all have pain. And we all look for ways to make the pain go away. (107)
Couples should keep their love pure before it poisons the purest love of all - that between them and their children
What literature brings to our times is always the fact that literature refuses to bring any simple or easy answers.
I probably have not killed anyone in America because I write, I've maintained good controls over myself by writing.
in my skimmings over fiction I cannot recall any writer so continuously implicated in his own work as George Moore.
If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression Of something beautiful, but annihilating.
I think I am worthwhile just because I have optical nerves and can try to put down what they perceive. What a fool!
I think the coming of spring, the stars overhead, the first snowfall and so on are gifts for a child, a young poet.
A poem is good if it contains a new analogy and startles the reader out of the habit of treating words as counters.
A glance, a word -- and joy or pain befalls.... How slight the links are in the chain that binds us to our destiny!
My father invested his money so securely in the banking business that he was never able to get any of it out again.
Alas, regardless of their doom, the little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come, nor care beyond today.
There are three things which the public will always clamor for, sooner or later: namely, novelty, novelty, novelty.
What madness is this, inviting sable Death by warfare? It always hovers close and comes unforeseen on silent steps.
Children at once accept joy and happiness with quick familiarity, being themselves naturally all happiness and joy.
The man who does not know other languages, unless he is a man of genius, necessarily has deficiencies in his ideas.
She worked in order to live, and presently fell in love, also in order to live, for the heart, too, has its hunger.
Too slow, the wagons of years, The oxen of days--too glum. Our god is the god of speed, Our heart--our battle-drum.
After a lustre of the moon, we say We have not the need of any paradise, We have not the need of any seducing hymn.
I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.
We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun, We found our own O my soul in the calm and cool of the daybreak.
A face peered. All the grey night In chaos of vacancy shone; Nought but vast Sorrow was there The sweet cheat gone.
As the caterpillar chooses the fairest leaves to lay her eggs on, so the priest lays his curse on the fairest joys.
Without minute neatness of execution, the sublime cannot exist! Grandeur of ideas is founded on precision of ideas.
O Earth, O Earth, return! Arise from out the dewy grass; Night is worn; And the morn Rises from the slumbrous mass.
The generations of men run on in the tide of time, but leave their destined lineaments permanent for ever and ever.
Embraces are comminglings from the head even to the feet, And not a pompous high priest entering by a secret place.
The true poet is all the time a visionary and whether with friends or not, as much alone as a man on his death bed.
I am content to live it all again And yet again, if it be life to pitch Into the frog-spawn of a blind man's ditch.
What portion in the world can the artist have, Who has awakened from the common dream, But dissipation and despair?
I agree about Shaw - he is haunted by the mystery he flouts. He is an atheist who trembles in the haunted corridor.
In mockery I have set A powerful emblem up, And sing it rhyme upon rhyme In mockery of a time Half dead at the top.