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Some books are drenchèd sandsOn which a great soul's wealth lies all in heaps,Like a wrecked argosy.

Alexander Smith

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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
Soul
Book
Drench
Great
Heaps
Like
Wrecked
Lies
Wealth
Books
Lying

More quotes by Alexander Smith

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A single soul is richer than all the worlds.
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The truly great rest in the knowledge of their own deserts, nor seek the conformation of the world.
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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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Sweet April's tears, Dead on the hem of May.
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Style, after all, rather than thought, is the immortal thing in literature.
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There is nothing good in this world which time does not improve.
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If you do your fair day's work, you are certain to get your fair day's wage - in praise or pudding, whichever happens to suit your taste.
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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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In my garden I spend my days in my library I spend my nights.
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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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Every man's road in life is marked by the grave of his personal likings.
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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.
Alexander Smith
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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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Trifles make up the happiness or the misery of mortal life.
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God has thickly strewn infinity with grandeur.
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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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Looking forward into an empty year strikes one with a certain awe, because one finds therein no recognition. The years behind have a friendly aspect, and they are warmed by the fires we have kindled, and all their echoes are the echoes of our own voices.
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Every day travels toward death the last only arrives at it.
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The spot of ground on which a man has stood is forever interesting to him.
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Yet through all, we know this tangled skein is in the hands of One, Who sees the end from the beginning: He shall unravel all.
Alexander Smith