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Each time we love,We turn a nearer and a broader markTo that keen archer, Sorrow, and he strikes.

Alexander Smith

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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
Sorrow
Turn
Turns
Archer
Time
Broader
Love
Keen
Nearer
Strikes

More quotes by Alexander Smith

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Everything is sweetened by risk.
Alexander Smith
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My garden, with its silence and pulses of fragrance that come and go on the airy undulations, affects me like sweet music. Care stops at the gates, and gazes at me wistfully through the bars.
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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 pleased sea on a white-breasted shore-- A shore that wears on her alluring brows Rare shells, far brought, the love-gifts of the sea, That blushed a tell-tale.
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In my garden, care stops at the gate and gazes at me wistfully through the bars.
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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.
Alexander Smith
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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.
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The great man is the man who does a thing for the first time.
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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 dead keep their secrets, and in a while we shall be as wise as they - and as taciturn.
Alexander Smith
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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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We bury love Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.
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To sit for one's portrait is like being present at one's own creation.
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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.
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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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Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well.
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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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Thoughts must come naturally, like wild-flowers they cannot be forced in a hot-bed, even although aided by the leaf-mould of your past.
Alexander Smith
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I have learned to prize the quiet, lightning deed, not the applauding thunder at its heels that men call fame.
Alexander Smith
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The truly great rest in the knowledge of their own deserts, nor seek the conformation of the world.
Alexander Smith