Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
For every worm beneath the moon Draws different threads, and late and soon Spins, toiling out his own cocoon.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
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
Draws
Cocoon
Soon
Toiling
Moon
Cocoons
Late
Threads
Different
Worm
Every
Worms
Thread
Beneath
Spins
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Let knowledge grow from more to more, But more of reverence in us dwell That mind and soul, according well, May make one music as before, But vaster.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Read my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Where love could walk with banish'd Hope no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Twilight and evening bell, and after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell when I embark.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
He that wrongs his friend, wrongs himself more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The year is dying in the night.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
if you don't concentrate on what you are doing then the thing that you are doing is not what you are thinking.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The same words conceal and declare the thoughts of men.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Love will conquer at the last.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ah! well away! Seasons flower and fade.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I know that age to age succeeds, Blowing a noise of tongues and deeds, A dust of systems and of creeds.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
She sleeps: her breathings are not heard In palace chambers far apart. The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd That lie upon her charmed heart She sleeps: on either hand upswells The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest: She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells A perfect form in perfect rest.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I am half-sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Only reapers, reaping early In among the bearded barley, Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly, Down to towered Camelot.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I will love thee to the death, And out beyond into the dream to come.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough Gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades Forever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
He is all fault who has no fault at all.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
