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The healing of the world is in its nameless saints. Each separate star seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars break up the night and make it beautiful.
Bayard Taylor
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Bayard Taylor
Age: 53 †
Born: 1825
Born: January 11
Died: 1878
Died: December 19
Critic
Diplomat
Explorer
Journalist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Poet
Politician
Translator
Writer
Make
Healing
World
Star
Break
Myriad
Stars
Nameless
Night
Scattered
Beautiful
Saints
Seems
Separate
Nothing
Saint
More quotes by Bayard Taylor
By wisdom wealth is won but riches purchased wisdom yet for none.
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Labor, you know, is prayer.
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Higher than the perfect song For which love longeth, Is the tender fear of wrong, That never wrongeth.
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Alone each heart must cover up its dead Alone, through bitter toil, achieve its rest.
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An enthusiastic desire of visiting the Old World haunted me from early childhood. I cherished a presentiment, amounting almost to belief, that I should one day behold the scenes, among which my fancy had so long wandered.
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The most annoying of all blockheads is a well-read fool.
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There may come a day Which crowns Desire with gift, and Art with truth, And Love with bliss, and Life with wiser youth!
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Eccentricity is developed monomania.
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The native Jewish families in Jerusalem, as well as those in other parts of Palestine, present a marked difference to the Jews of Europe and America. They possess the same physical characteristics - the dark, oblong eye, the prominent nose, the strongly-marked cheek and jaw - but in the latter, these traits have become harsh and coarse.
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It is an agreeable and yet a painful sense of novelty to stand for the first time in the midst of a people whose language and manners are different from one's own.
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Those who would attain to any marked degree of excellence in a chosen pursuit must work, and work hard for it, prince or peasant.
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Swelling in anger or sparkling in glee.
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Love is better than Fame.
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He teaches best, Who feels the hearts of all men in his breast, And knows their strength or weakness through his own.
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Really,' thought I, 'we call Baltimore the 'Monumental City' for its two marble columns, and here is Edinburg with one at every street-corner!
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Above Coblentz almost every mountain has a ruin and a legend. One feels everywhere the spirit of the past, and its stirring recollections come back upon the mind with irresistible force.
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Sometimes an hour of Fate's serenest weather Strikes through our changeful sky its coming beams Somewhere above us, in elusive ether, Waits the fulfilment of our dearest dreams.
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From the desert I come to thee, On a stallion shod with fire And the winds are left behind In the speed of my desire.
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The lamp you lighted in the olden time Will show you my heart's-blood beating through the rhyme: A poet's journal, writ in fire and tears... Then slow deliverance, with the gaps of years.
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Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.
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