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Since when was genius found respectable?
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Age: 55 †
Born: 1806
Born: March 6
Died: 1861
Died: June 30
Essayist
Pamphleteer
Poet
Screenwriter
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Durham
England
Mrs. Browning
Elizabeth Barrett Barrett
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning
Elizaveta Barrett Brauning
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More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The essence of all beauty, I call love.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
In your patience ye are strong.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And that dismal cry rose slowly And sank slowly through the air, Full of spirit's melancholy And eternity's despair And they heard the words it said,- Pan is dead! great Pan is dead! Pan, Pan is dead!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And yet, because I love thee, I obtain From that same love this vindicating grace, To live on still in love, and yet in vain
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Who can fear Too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll- Too many flowers, though each shall crown the year? Say thou dost love me, love me, love me-toll The silver iterance!-only minding, Dear, To love me also in silence, with thy soul.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weak,And placed it by thee on a golden throne,-- And that I love (O soul, we must be meek!)Is by thee only, whom I love alone.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Who so loves believes the impossible.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And there my little doves did sit With feathers softly brown And glittering eyes that showed their right To general Nature's deep delight.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
We overstate the ills of life, and take Imagination... down our earth to rake.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
A woman's pity sometimes makes her mad.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers, And thrusts the thing we have prayed for in our face, A gauntlet with a gift in it.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I would not be a rose upon the wall A queen might stop at, near the palace-door, To say to a courtier, Pluck that rose for me, It's prettier than the rest. O Romney Leigh! I'd rather far be trodden by his foot, Than lie in a great queen's bosom.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
O rose, who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet, But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubblewheat, Kept seven years in a drawer, thy titles shame thee.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
In this abundant earth no doubt Is little room for things worn out: Disdain them, break them, throw them by! And if before the days grew rough We once were lov'd, us'd -- well enough, I think, we've far'd, my heart and I.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I wish I were the lily's leaf To fade upon that bosom warm, Content to wither, pale and brief, The trophy of thy paler form.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Love me sweet With all thou art Feeling, thinking, seeing Love me in the Lightest part, Love me in full Being.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Or from Browning some Pomegranate, which if cut deep down the middle Shows a heart within blood-tinctured, of a veined humanity.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Every wish Is like a prayer--with God.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The music soars within the little lark, And the lark soars.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Nor myrtle--which means chiefly love: and love Is something awful which one dare not touch So early o' mornings.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
