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In my garden, care stops at the gate and gazes at me wistfully through the bars.

Alexander Smith

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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
Gate
Stops
Gates
Bars
Garden
Care
Wistfully
Gazes

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Pleasure has no logic it never treads in its own footsteps.
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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.
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An old novel has a history of its own.
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If you wish to make a man look noble, your best course is to kill him. What superiority he may have inherited from his race, what superiority nature may have personally gifted him with, comes out in death.
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I would rather be remembered by a song than by a victory.
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The only thing a man knows is himself.
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Trees are your best antiques
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We are never happy we can only remember that we were so once.
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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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It is a characteristic of pleasure that we can never recognize it to be pleasure till after it is gone.
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A man does not plant a tree for himself he plants it for posterity.
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The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
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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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A bottomless pit of violence, a Tower of Babel where all are speakers and no hearers.
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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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God has thickly strewn infinity with grandeur.
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Sweet April's tears, Dead on the hem of May.
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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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If a man is worth knowing at all, he is worth knowing well.
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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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