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A man may love a woman perfectly, and yet by no means ignorantly maintain a thousand women have not larger eyes. Enough that she alone has looked at him with eyes that, large or small, have won his soul.
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
Translator
Durham
England
Mrs. Browning
Elizabeth Barrett Barrett
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning
Elizaveta Barrett Brauning
Enough
Alone
Ignorantly
Mean
Eyes
Maintain
Men
Eye
Larger
Love
Woman
Perfectly
Means
Large
Women
Looked
May
Thousand
Soul
Small
More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
My patience has dreadful chilblains from standing so long on a monument.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Get leave to work In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.
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And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.
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Many a fervid man writes books as cold and flat as graveyard stones.
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I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless That only men incredulous of despair, half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air beat upward to god's throne in loud access of shrieking and reproach
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
You smell a rose through a fence: If two should smell it, what matter?
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The world's male chivalry has perished out, but women are knights-errant to the last and, if Cervantes had been greater still, he had made his Don a Donna.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange And be all to me?
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Life, struck sharp on death, Makes awful lightning.
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.
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Since when was genius found respectable?
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There, that is our secret: go to sleep! You will wake, and remember, and understand.
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The Greeks said grandly in their tragic phrase, 'Let no one be called happy till his death' to which I would add, 'Let no one, till his death, be called unhappy.'
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
What is art but the life upon the larger scale, the higher. When, graduating up in a spiral line of still expanding and ascending gyres, it pushes toward the intense significance of all things, hungry for the infinite?
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Wall must get the weather stain Before they grow the ivy.
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Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.
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Measure not the work until the day's out and the labor done.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless.
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Behold me! I am worthy Of thy loving, for I love thee!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
My future will not copy my fair past, I wrote that once. And, thinking at my side my ministering life-angel justified the word by his appealing look upcast to the white throne of God.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning