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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.

Alexander Smith

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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
Strange
Books
Seated
Looking
Visited
Faces
Supernatural
Sense
Occasionally
Night
Library
Book
Lovers
Silent

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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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A man's real possession is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.
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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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Most brilliant star upon the crest of Time Is England. England!
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It is a characteristic of pleasure that we can never recognize it to be pleasure till after it is gone.
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Happiness never lays its finger on its pulse. If we attempt to steal a glimpse of its features it disappears.
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Every day travels toward death the last only arrives at it.
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Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.
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The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
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Books are a finer world within the world. (1863)
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A single soul is richer than all the worlds.
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The globe has been circumnavigated, but no man ever yet has you may survey a kingdom and note the result in maps, but all the savants in the world could not produce a reliable map of the poorest human personality.
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Winter does not work only on a broad scale he is careful in trifles.
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Some books are drenchèd sandsOn which a great soul's wealth lies all in heaps,Like a wrecked argosy.
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The spot of ground on which a man has stood is forever interesting to him.
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The sun was down, And all the west was paved with sullen fire. I cried, Behold! the barren beach of hell At ebb of tide.
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The sea complains upon a thousand shores.
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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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Fine phrases I value more than bank-notes. I have ear for no other harmony than the harmony of words. To be occasionally quoted is the only fame I care for.
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To have to die is a distinction of which no man is proud.
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