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Assuredly it would be a pity if laughter should ever become, like rhetoric and the arts, a habit.

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
Ever
Assuredly
Would
Rhetoric
Like
Arts
Pity
Laughter
Habit
Art
Become

More quotes by Alice Meynell

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O daisy mine, what will it be to look / From God's side even of such a simple thing?
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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.
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Solitude is separate experience.
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A wall is the safeguard of simplicity.
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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.
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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 It is the modest colour of the unpublished blood.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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Spirit of place! It is for this we travel, to surprise its subtlety and where it is a strong and dominant angel, that place, seen once, abides entire in the memory with all its own accidents, its habits, its breath, its name.
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Now, in our opinion no author should be blamed for obscurity, nor should any pains be grudged in the effort to understand him, provided that he has done his best to be intelligible. Difficult thoughts are quite distinct from difficult words. Difficulty of thought is the very heart of poetry.
Alice Meynell
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Rich meanings of the prophet-Spring adorn, / Unseen, this colorless sky of folded showers, / And folded winds...
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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
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I come from nothing: but from where come the undying thoughts I bear?
Alice Meynell
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From the shaken tower A flock of bells take flight, And go with the hour.
Alice Meynell
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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
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Rome in the ages, dimmed with all her towers, / Floats in the mist, a little cloud at tether.
Alice Meynell
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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
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The sense of humor has other things to do than to make itself conspicuous in the act of laughter.
Alice Meynell
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O spring, I know thee! Seek for sweet surprise / In the young children's eyes. / But I have learnt the years, and know the yet / Leaf-folded violet.
Alice Meynell
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No mirror keeps its glances.
Alice Meynell
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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
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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