Quote

As perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you, remaining Deeply folded in my brain, Will not leave me: all things leave me: You remain.

Arthur Symons

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Arthur Symons
Age: 79 †
Born: 1865
Born: February 28
Died: 1945
Died: January 22
Art Historian
Literary Critic
Poet
Translator
Writer
Aberdaugleddau
Arthur William Symons
Arthur Symons
Crush
Deeply
Lain
Remain
Folded
Leave
Remaining
Brain
Folds
Thought
Doth
Things
Perfume
Love
Hath

More quotes by Arthur Symons

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There is not a dream which may not come true, if we have the energy which makes, or chooses, our own fate.... It is only the dreams of those light sleepers who dream faintly that do not come true.
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My soul is like this cloudy, flaming opal ring.
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Here in a little lonely room I am master of earth and sea, And the planets come to me.
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My life is like a music-hall,Where, in the impotence of rage,Chained by enchantment to my stall,I see myself upon the stageDance to amuse a music-hall.
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It is in their eyes that their magic resides.
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And I would have, now love is over, An end to all, an end: I cannot, having been your lover Stoop to become your friend!
Arthur Symons
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What we ask of him is, that he should find out for us more than we can find out for ourselves... He must have the passion of a lover.
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The desert of virginity Aches in the hotness of her mouth.
Arthur Symons
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The gray-green stretch of sandy grass,Indefinitely desolateA sea of lead, a sky of slateAlready autumn in the air, alas!One stark monotony of stone,The long hotel, acutely white,Against the after-sunset lightWithers gray-green, and takes the grass's tone.
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Life is a dream in the night, a fear among fears, A naked runner lost in a storm of spears.
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The mystic too full of God to speak intelligibly to the world.
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Without charm there can be no fine literature, as there can be no perfect flower without fragrance.
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A place has almost the shyness of a person, with strangers and its secret is not to be surprised by a too direct interrogation.
Arthur Symons
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Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses? How soft is this one, how subtle this is, How fluttering swift as a bird's kiss that is, As a bird that taps at a leafy lattice How this one clings and how that uncloses From bud to flower in the way of roses.
Arthur Symons
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Art begins when a man wishes to immortalize the most vivid moment he has ever lived.
Arthur Symons
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Love is a flaming heart, and its flames aspire / Till they cloud the soul in the smoke of a windy fire.
Arthur Symons
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The wind is rising on the sea,The windy white foam-dancers leapAnd the sea moans uneasily,And turns to sleep, and cannot sleep.
Arthur Symons
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To have loved, to have been made happy thus, / What better fate has life in store for us?
Arthur Symons
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I heard the sighing of the reedsAt noontide and at evening,And some old dream I had forgottenI seemed to be remembering.
Arthur Symons
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There are certain natures to whom work is nothing, the act of work everything.
Arthur Symons