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He is all fault who has no fault at all.
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
Fault
Faults
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
So dear a life your arms enfold, Whose crying is a cry for gold.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him and tho' he trip and fall, He shall not blind his soul with clay.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
His honour rooted in dishonour stood, And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I sometimes find it half a sin, To put to words the grief i feel, For words like nature,half reveal, and half conceal the soul within.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly longed for death.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
There's no glory like those who save their country.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And sometimes through the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Gone - flitted away, Taken the stars from the night and the sun From the day! Gone, and a cloud in my heart.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The old order changes yielding place to new.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Where love could walk with banish'd Hope no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Science moves, but slowly, slowly, creeping on from point to point. ... Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns. ... Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
God's finger touched him, and he slept.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Arise, go forth, and conquer as of old.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Though much is taken, much abides and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I know transplanted human worth will bloom to profit otherwhere.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
