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Yet is there one true line, the pearl of pearls: Man dreams of Fame while woman wakes to love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Alfred Lord Tennyson
Age: 83 †
Born: 1809
Born: August 6
Died: 1892
Died: October 6
Poet
Politician
Writer
Somersby
Lincolnshire
Alfred Tennyson
1st Baron Tennyson
Lord Alfred Tennyson
Alcibiades
A. Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson
Baron Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson Tennyson
Tennyson
1st Baron Tennyson of Aldworth and Freshwater Alfred Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson d'Eyncourt
Lord Tennyson Alfred
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred
Lord Tennyson
Men
Pearls
Love
Fame
Life
Line
Dreams
Lines
Woman
True
Wakes
Dream
Pearl
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Better not be at all than not be noble.
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The noonday quiet holds the hill.
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Too much wit makes the world rotten.
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That loss is common would not make My own less bitter, rather more: Too common! Never morning wore To evening, but some heart did break.
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O Blackbird! sing me something well: While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground, Where thou may'st warble, eat and dwell.
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I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.
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But for the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies The sad mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics numbing pain.
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Ah, why Should life all labour be?
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Nor is he the wisest man who never proved himself a fool.
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The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.
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The year is dying in the night.
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We needs must love the highest when we see it.
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That which we are, we are, and if we are ever to be any better, now is the time to begin.
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What is it all but a trouble of ants in the gleam of a million million of suns?
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Follow the deer? Follow the Christ the King. Live pure, speak true,right wrong, Follow the King-- Else, wherefore born?
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Every man, for the sake of the great blessed Mother in Heaven, and for the love of his own little mother on earth, should handle all womankind gently, and hold them in all Honor.
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She has a lovely face God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever.
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Do we indeed desire the dead Should still be near us at our side ? Is there no baseness we would hide ? No inner vileness that we dread ? How many a father have I seen A sober man, among his boys Whose youth was full of foolish noise.
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So many worlds, so much to do, so little done, such things to be.
Alfred Lord Tennyson