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We bury love Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.

Alexander Smith

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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
Grows
Thing
Love
Forgetful
Like
Forgetfulness
Bury
Weep
Grass
Dead

More quotes by Alexander Smith

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Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.
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Nature never quite goes along with us. She is somber at weddings, sunny at funerals, and she frowns on ninety-nine out of a hundred picnics.
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Seated in my library at night, and looking on the silent faces of my books, I am occasionally visited by a strange sense of the supernatural.
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There is no ghost so difficult to lay as the ghost of an injury.
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A man does not plant a tree for himself he plants it for posterity.
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We twain have met like the ships upon the sea, Who behold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet: One little hour! and then, away they speed On lonely paths, through mist, and cloud, and foam, To meet no more.
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It is the sternest philosophy, but on the whole the truest, that, in the wide arena of the world, failure and success are not accidents, as we so frequently suppose, but the strictest justice.
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A thought may be very commendable as a thought, but I value it chiefly as a window through which I can obtain insight on the thinker.
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Pleasure has no logic it never treads in its own footsteps.
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A tender sadness drops upon my soul, like the soft twilight dropping on the world.
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Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well.
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The greatness of an artist or a writer does not depend on what he has in common with other artists and writers, but on what he has peculiar to himself.
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The dead keep their secrets, and in a while we shall be as wise as they - and as taciturn.
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Sweet April's tears, Dead on the hem of May.
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My heart like moon-charmed waters, all unrest.
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The sea complains upon a thousand shores.
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Fame is but an inscription on a grave, and glory the melancholy blazon on a coffin lid.
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The man who in this world can keep the whiteness of his soul is not likely to lose it in any other.
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Eternity doth wear upon her face the veil of time. They only see the veil, and thus they know not what they stand so near!
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Trees are your best antiques
Alexander Smith