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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.
Alexander Smith
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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
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Short
Ships
Twain
Sweet
Clouds
Converse
Path
Speed
Foam
Hours
Mets
Converses
Upon
Lonely
Behold
Away
Hour
Mist
Littles
Sea
Paths
Little
Meet
Cloud
More quotes by Alexander Smith
My friend is not perfect-no more than I am-and so we suit each other admirable.
Alexander Smith
There is no ghost so difficult to lay as the ghost of an injury.
Alexander Smith
A man can bear a world's contempt when he has that within which says he's worthy. When he contemns himself, there burns the hell.
Alexander Smith
A man gazing at the stars is proverbially at the mercy of the puddles in the road.
Alexander Smith
Death, which we are accustomed to consider an evil, really acts for us the friendliest part, and takes away the commonplace of existence.
Alexander Smith
In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October, when the trees are bare to the mild heavens, and the red leaves bestrew the road, and you can feel the breath of winter, morning and evening - no days so calm, so tenderly solemn, and with such a reverent meekness in the air.
Alexander Smith
In winter, when the dismal rain Comes down in slanting lines, And Wind, that grand old harper, smote His thunder-harp of pines.
Alexander Smith
One never hugs one's good luck so affectionately as when listening to the relation of some horrible misfortunes which has overtaken others.
Alexander Smith
If you wish to preserve your secret, wrap it up in frankness.
Alexander Smith
An old novel has a history of its own.
Alexander Smith
The dead keep their secrets, and in a while we shall be as wise as they - and as taciturn.
Alexander Smith
To sit for one's portrait is like being present at one's own creation.
Alexander Smith
Stirling, like a huge brooch, clasps Highlands and Lowlands together.
Alexander Smith
Pleasure has no logic it never treads in its own footsteps.
Alexander Smith
Vanity in its idler moments is benevolent, is as willing to give pleasure as to take it, and accepts as sufficient reward for its services a kind word or an approving smile.
Alexander Smith
The man who in this world can keep the whiteness of his soul is not likely to lose it in any other.
Alexander Smith
The discovery of a grey hair when you are brushing out your whiskers of a morning - first fallen flake of the coming snows of age - is a disagreeable thing.
Alexander Smith
If we were to live here always, with no other care than how to feed, clothe, and house ourselves, life would be a very sorry business. It is immeasurably heightened by the solemnity of death.
Alexander Smith
The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
Alexander Smith
Books are a finer world within the world. (1863)
Alexander Smith
