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In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October.

Alexander Smith

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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
Entire
Fine
Meekness
Days
October
Year
Delightful
Years
Autumn
Circle
Circles

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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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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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If a man is worth knowing at all, he is worth knowing well.
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There is no ghost so difficult to lay as the ghost of an injury.
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How beautiful the yesterday that stood Over me like a rainbow! I am alone, The past is past. I see the future stretch All dark and barren as a rainy sea.
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Pleasure has no logic it never treads in its own footsteps.
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The only thing a man knows is himself.
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Each time we love,We turn a nearer and a broader markTo that keen archer, Sorrow, and he strikes.
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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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There is nothing good in this world which time does not improve.
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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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In my garden I spend my days in my library I spend my nights.
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We bury love Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.
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A bottomless pit of violence, a Tower of Babel where all are speakers and no hearers.
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The saddest thing that befalls a soul is when it loses faith in god and woman.
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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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Sweet April's tears, Dead on the hem of May.
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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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My friend is not perfect-no more than I am-and so we suit each other admirable.
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The great man is the man who does a thing for the first time.
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