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Thoroughly to believe in one's own self, so one's self were thorough, were to do great things.
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
Great
Believe
Things
Thorough
Thoroughly
Self
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I will love thee to the death, And out beyond into the dream to come.
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What rights are those that dare not resist for them?
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As she fled fast through sun and shade The happy winds upon her play'd, Blowing the ringlet from the braid.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
the shell must break before the bird can fly.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O last regret, regret can die!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The words 'far, far away' had always a strange charm.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
No man ever got very high by pulling other people down. The intelligent merchant does not knock his competitors. The sensible worker does not work those who work with him. Don't knock your friends. Don't knock your enemies. Don't knock yourself.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Come, Time, and teach me many years, I do not suffer in dream For now so strange do these things seem, Mine eyes have leisure for their tears.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And oft I heard the tender dove In firry woodlands making moan.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Life is not as idle ore, But iron dug from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears, And dipt in baths of hissing tears, And batter'd with the shocks of doom, To shape and use.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Oh that it were possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true love, Around me once again
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moans of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.
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
In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er, Like coarsest clothes against the cold
Alfred Lord Tennyson
We love but while we may And therefore is my love so large for thee, Seeing it is not bounded save by love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Though thou wert scattered to the wind, Yet is there plenty of the kind.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
