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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
Littles
Sea
Paths
Little
Meet
Cloud
Like
Short
Ships
Twain
Sweet
Clouds
Converse
Path
Speed
Foam
Hours
Mets
Converses
Upon
Lonely
Behold
Away
Hour
Mist
More quotes by Alexander Smith
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
It is not of so much consequence what you say, as how you say it. Memorable sentences are memorable on account of some single irradiating word.
Alexander Smith
To sit for one's portrait is like being present at one's own creation.
Alexander Smith
A single soul is richer than all the worlds.
Alexander Smith
A tender sadness drops upon my soul, like the soft twilight dropping on the world.
Alexander Smith
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.
Alexander Smith
Style, after all, rather than thought, is the immortal thing in literature.
Alexander Smith
In life there is nothing more unexpected and surprising than the arrivals and departures of pleasure. If we find it in one place today, it is vain to seek it there tomorrow. You can not lay a trap for it.
Alexander Smith
The world is not so much in need of new thoughts as that when thought grows old and worn with usage it should, like current coin, be called in, and, from the mint of genius, reissued fresh and new.
Alexander Smith
Trees are your best antiques
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
There is a certain even-handed justice in Time and for what he takes away he gives us something in return. He robs us of elasticity of limb and spirit, and in its place he brings tranquility and repose—the mild autumnal weather of the soul.
Alexander Smith
A poem round and perfect as a star.
Alexander Smith
It is a characteristic of pleasure that we can never recognize it to be pleasure till after it is gone.
Alexander Smith
Every day travels toward death the last only arrives at it.
Alexander Smith
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.
Alexander Smith
A man's real possession is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.
Alexander Smith
A man does not plant a tree for himself he plants it for posterity.
Alexander Smith
Some books are drenchèd sandsOn which a great soul's wealth lies all in heaps,Like a wrecked argosy.
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