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The true colour of life is the colour of the body, the colour of the covered red, the implicit and not explicit red of the living heart and the pulses. It is the modest colour of the unpublished blood.
Alice Meynell
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Alice Meynell
Age: 75 †
Born: 1847
Born: September 22
Died: 1922
Died: November 27
Essayist
Literary Critic
Poet
Writer
Barnes
England
Alice Christiana Gertrude Meynell
Alice Christiana Gertrude Thompson
Color
Unpublished
Blood
Implicit
Living
Explicit
True
Pulse
Body
Modest
Heart
Colour
Life
Covered
Red
Pulses
More quotes by Alice Meynell
She walks--the lady of my delight-- A sheperdess of sheep. Her flocks are thoughts. She keeps them white She guards them from the steep. She feeds them on the fragrant height, And folds them in for sleep.
Alice Meynell
If life is not always poetical, it is at least metrical.
Alice Meynell
There is something very cheerful and courageous in the setting-out of a child on a journey of speech with so small baggage and with so much confidence.
Alice Meynell
A wall is the safeguard of simplicity.
Alice Meynell
Rich meanings of the prophet-Spring adorn, / Unseen, this colorless sky of folded showers, / And folded winds...
Alice Meynell
Play is not for every hour of the day, or for any hour taken at random. There is a tide in the affairs of children. Civilization is cruel in sending them to bed at the most stimulating time of dusk.
Alice Meynell
We talk of sunshine and moonshine, but not of cloud-shine, which is yet one of the illuminations of our skies. A shining cloud is one of the most majestic of all secondary lights.
Alice Meynell
I have known some grim bells, with not a single joyous note in the whole peal, so forced to hurry for a human festival, with their harshness made light of, as though the Bishop of Hereford had again been forced to dance in his boots by a merry highwayman.
Alice Meynell
If there is a look of human eyes that tells of perpetual loneliness, so there is also the familiar look that is the sign of perpetual crowds.
Alice Meynell
Rich meanings of the prophet-Spring adorn, Unseen, this colourless sky of folded showers, And folded winds no blossom in the bowers A poet's face asleep in this grey morn. Now in the midst of the old world forlorn A mystic child is set in these still hours. I keep this time, even before the flowers, Sacred to all the young and the unborn.
Alice Meynell
But, visiting Sea, your love doth press / And reach in further than you know, / And fills all these and, when you go, / There's loneliness in loneliness.
Alice Meynell
From the shaken tower A flock of bells take flight, And go with the hour.
Alice Meynell
for man, woman, and child the tender, irregular, sensitive, living foot, which does not even stand with all its little surface on the ground, and which makes no base to satisfy an architectural eye, is, as it were, the unexpected thing. ... nothing makes a more helpless and unsymmetrical sign than does a naked foot.
Alice Meynell
The traveling heart went free / With endless streams that strife was stopped / And down a thousand vales I dropped, / I flowed to Italy.
Alice Meynell
... I am dark but fair, / Black but fair.
Alice Meynell
With mimicry, with praises, with echoes, or with answers, the poets have all but outsung the bell. The inarticulate bell has found too much interpretation, too many rhymes professing to close with her inaccessible utterance, and to agree with her remote tongue. The bell, like the bird, is a musician pestered with literature.
Alice Meynell
A child is beset with long traditions. And his infancy is so old, so old, that the mere adding of years in the life to follow will not seem to throw it further back -- it is already so far.
Alice Meynell
There is nothing in the world more peaceful than apple - leaves with an early moon.
Alice Meynell
I come from nothing: but from where come the undying thoughts I bear?
Alice Meynell
No mirror keeps its glances.
Alice Meynell
