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Life, struck sharp on death, Makes awful lightning.
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
Sharp
Lightning
Awful
Death
Makes
Life
Struck
More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The beautiful seems right by force of beauty and the feeble wrong because of weakness.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Quick-loving hearts ... may quickly loathe.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
You're something between a dream and a miracle.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
A child's kiss Set on thy sighing lips shall make thee glad A poor man served by thee shall make thee rich A sick man helped by thee shall make thee strong Thou shalt be served thyself by every sense Of service which thou renderest.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Much of the possibility of being cheerful comes from the faculty of throwing oneself beyond oneself.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Free men freely work: Whoever fears God, fears to sit at ease.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Eyes of gentianellas azure, Staring, winking at the skies.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Never say No when the world says Aye.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Every wish Is like a prayer--with God.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Books are men of higher stature, and the only men that speak aloud for future times to hear.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
When we first met and loved, I did not build Upon the event with marble. . . .
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Wall must get the weather stain Before they grow the ivy.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Oh, a day in the city-square, there is no such pleasure in life!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
There's nothing great Nor small, has said a poet of our day, Whose voice will ring beyond the curfew of eve And not be thrown out by the matin's bell.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
XI I sang his name instead of song Over and over I sang his name: Backward and forward I sang it along, With my sweetest notes, it was still the same! I sang it low, that the slave-girls near Might never guess, from what they could hear, That all the song was a name.
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
Sleep on, Baby, on the floor, Tired of all the playing, Sleep with smile the sweeter for That you dropped away in! On your curls' full roundness stand Golden lights serenely-- One cheek, pushed out by the hand, Folds the dimple inly.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
It was not the apple on the tree but the pair on the ground that caused the trouble in the garden of Eden.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
