Elizabeth Barrett Browning Quotes

World's use is cold, world's love is vain, world's cruelty is bitter bane; but is not the fruit of pain.

And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.

Some people always sigh in thanking God.

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers?

Gaze up at the stars knowing that I see the same sky and wish the same sweet dreams.

Never say No when the world says Aye.

And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.

He lives most life whoever breathes most air.

Love me sweet With all thou art Feeling, thinking, seeing; Love me in the Lightest part, Love me in full Being.

Who so loves believes the impossible.

Of all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is. For gift or grace, surpassing this-- He giveth His beloved sleep.

All actual heroes are essential men, And all men possible heroes.

An ignorance of means may minister to greatness, but an ignorance of aims make it impossible to be great at all.

Sing, seraph with the glory! heaven is high. Sing, poet with the sorrow! earth is low. The universe's inward voices cry "Amen" to either song of joy and woe. Sing, seraph, poet! sing on equally!

Every wish Is like a prayer--with God.

I wish I were the lily's leaf To fade upon that bosom warm, Content to wither, pale and brief, The trophy of thy paler form.

This race is never grateful: from the first, One fills their cup at supper with pure wine, Which back they give at cross-time on a sponge, In bitter vinegar.

Guess now who holds thee?'--'Death,' I said. But, there, The silver answer rang, . . . 'Not Death, but Love.

True knowledge comes only through suffering.

If you desire faith, then you have faith enough.

The charm, one might say the genius, of memory is that it is choosy, chancy and temperamental.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use

Will that light come again, As now these tears come...falling hot and real!

God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers, And thrusts the thing we have prayed for in our face, A gauntlet with a gift in it.

Yes, I answered you last night; No, this morning, sir, I say: Colors seen by candle-light Will not look the same by day.

My love for him was so exquisitely pure that if we all were capable of giving and receiving such a beautiful gift the world would be a far more brilliant place; I think we'd all be poets.

I love thee to the level of everyday's most quiet need, by sun and candle light...I love thee with the breath,smiles,t ears,of all my life.

Earth's crammed with Heaven.

The world's male chivalry has perished out, but women are knights-errant to the last; and, if Cervantes had been greater still, he had made his Don a Donna.

Measure not the work until the day's out and the labor done.

Men get opinions as boys learn to spell by reiteration chiefly.

Where Christ brings His cross He brings His presence; and where He is none are desolate, and there is no room for despair.

In your patience ye are strong.

I cannot speak In happy tones; the tear drops on my cheek Show I am sad; But I can speak Of grace to suffer with submission meek, Until made glad.

And I smiled to think God's greatness flowed around our incompleteness; Round our restlessness, His rest.

Since when was genius found respectable?

You smell a rose through a fence: If two should smell it, what matter?

Get leave to work In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.

Purple lilies Dante blew To a larger bubble with his prophet breath.

Life treads on life, and heart on heart; We press too close in church and mart To keep a dream or grave apart.

For poets (bear the word) Half-poets even, are still whole democrats.

At painful times, when composition is impossible and reading not enough, grammars and dictionaries are excellent for distraction.

We overstate the ills of life, and take Imagination... down our earth to rake.

Don't get me wrong-painting's all right. But now that we have photography, what's the point?

I worked with patience which means almost power.

A woman's always younger than a man at equal years.

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.

Life, struck sharp on death, Makes awful lightning.

The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise, I barter for curl upon that mart.

First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And, ever since, it grew more clean and white.