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What mortal is there, over whose first joys and happiness does not break some storm, dispelling with its icy breath his fanciful illusions, and shattering his altar?

Alphonse de Lamartine

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Alphonse de Lamartine
Autobiographer
Diplomat
Foreign Minister
Historian
Poet
Politician
Prosaist
Writer
Notre-Dame-des-Vignes
Alphonse Marie de Lamartine
Illusion
Altars
Whose
Illusions
Joy
Joys
Break
Mortal
Dispelling
Happiness
Mortals
Fanciful
Doe
Breath
Icy
Firsts
Breaths
Shattering
First
Storm
Altar

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God has placed the genius of women in their hearts, because the works of this genius are always works of love.
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Republicanism and ignorance are in bitter antagonism.
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Man is born barbarous--he is ransomed from the condition of beasts only by being cultivated.
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The impartiality of history is not that of the mirror, which merely reflects objects, but of the judge, who sees, listens, and decides.
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Music is the literature of the heart it commences where speech ends.
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Sometimes, only one person is missing, and the whole world seems depopulated.
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Death, with funereal shades in vain surrounds me, My reason through his darkness seeth light: 'Tis the last step which brings me close to Thee: 'Tis the veil falling, 'twixt Thy face and mine.
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Chance often gives us that which we should not have presumed to ask.
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True greatness is sovereign wisdom. We are never deceived by our virtues.
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There is a woman at the begining of all great things.
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Kindness is virtue itself.
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Silence and simplicity obtrude on no one, but are yet two unequaled attractions in woman.
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Limited in his nature, infinite in his desires, man is a fallen god who remembers the heavens.
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Time is a great ocean which, like the other ocean, overflows with our remains.
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But Nature too, shakes off her sleep today By May's mild sun we see reviv'd her frame, Around my window Venus' birds proclaim, The month most cherish'd backwards bends his way!
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A conscience without God is like a court without a judge.
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Philosophy is the rational expression of genius.
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Men are misers, and women prodigal, in affection.
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Yet, in these autumn days when Nature expires, Here, in these veiled scenes, I find more attractions It is a friend's sad goodbye it is the last smile From lips that death is going to close forever!
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Radicalism is but the desperation of logic.
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