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For words divide and rend But silence is most noble till the end.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Algernon Charles Swinburne
Age: 72 †
Born: 1837
Born: April 5
Died: 1909
Died: April 10
Literary Critic
Poet
Writer
London
England
Algernon Swinburne
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Algernon Charles Swiburne
Rend
Divide
Divides
Till
Noble
Silence
Words
Ends
More quotes by Algernon Charles Swinburne
There is no safety-net to protect against attraction.
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A baby's feet, like sea-shells pink Might tempt, should heaven see meet, An angel's lips to kiss, we think, A baby's feet.
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Faith speaks when hope is disassembled faith lives when hope dies dead.
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The sweetest flowers in all the world- A baby's hands.
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She knows not loves that kissed her She knows not where. Art thou the ghost, my sister, White sister there, Am I the ghost, who knows? My hand, a fallen rose, Lies snow-white on white snows, and takes no care.
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I remember the way we parted, The day and the way we met You hoped we were both broken-hearted And knew we should both forget.
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In fierce March weather White waves break tether, And whirled together At either hand, Like weeds uplifted, The tree-trunks rifted In spars are drifted, Like foam or sand.
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Where might is, the right is: Long purses make strong swords. Let weakness learn meekness: God save the House of Lords!
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When fate has allowed to any man more than one great gift, accident or necessity seems usually to contrive that one shall encumber and impede the other.
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Love, till dawn sunder night from day with fire Dividing my delight and my desire.
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To wipe off the froth of falsehood from the foaming lips of inebriated virtue, when fresh from the sexless orgies of morality and reeling from the delirious riot of religion, may doubtless be a charitable office.
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Is not Precedent indeed a King of men? A Word from the Psalmist.
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Forget that I remember And dream that I forget.
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Fate is a sea without a shore, and the soul is a rock that abides.
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Love, as is told by the seers of old, Comes as a butterfly tipped with gold, Flutters and flies in sunlit skies, Weaving round hearts that were one time cold.
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The loves and hours of the life of a man, They are swift and sad, being born of the sea.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
There is no God found stronger than death and death is a sleep.
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A young man with a very good past. [Fr., Un jeune homme d'un bien beau passe.]
Algernon Charles Swinburne
We, drinking love at the furthest springs, Covered with love as a covering tree, We had grown as gods, as the gods above, Filled from the heart to the lips with love, Held fast in his hands, clothed warm with his wings, O love, my love, had you loved but me!
Algernon Charles Swinburne
The tadpole poet will never grow into anything bigger than a frog.
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