E. B. Browning Quotes
How many desolate creatures on the earth have learnt the simple dues of fellowship and social comfort, in a hospital.
Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?
O rose, who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet, But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubblewheat, Kept seven years in a drawer, thy titles shame thee.
It was not the apple on the tree but the pair on the ground that caused the trouble in the garden of Eden.
The key to life is resilience....We will always be knocked down. It’s the getting up that counts.
A good neighbor sometimes cuts your morning up to mince-meat of the very smallest talk, then helps to sugar her bohea at night with your reputation.
But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, to dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, and baffled, get up and begin again.
What monster have we here? A great Deed at this hour of day? A great just deed - and not for pay? Absurd - or insincere?
There are three ways of learning golf: by study, which is the most wearisome; by imitation, which is the most fallacious; and by experience, which is the most bitter.
T'was a thief said the last kind word to Christ. Christ took the kindness and forgave the theft.
The essence of all beauty, I call love, The attribute, the evidence, and end, The consummation to the inward sense Of beauty apprehended from without, I still call love.
And let them pass, as they will too soon, With the bean-flowers' boon, And the blackbird's tune, And May, and June!
grow old with me. the best is yet to be. the last of life for which the first was made.
What I do and what I dream include thee, as the wine must taste of its own grapes.
As the moths around a taper, As the bees around a rose, As the gnats around a vapour, So the spirits group and close Round about a holy childhood, as if drinking its repose.
There is nothing so unpardonable as to consent to a senseless, aimless, purposeless life.
I tend to over-analyse things. I'm not the type of person to flip a coin and let things happen.
World's use is cold, world's love is vain, world's cruelty is bitter bane; but is not the fruit of pain.
Oh the wild joys of living! The leaping from rock to rock ... the cool silver shock of the plunge in a pool's living waters.
There's nothing great Nor small, has said a poet of our day, Whose voice will ring beyond the curfew of eve And not be thrown out by the matin's bell.
And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.
