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Many a fervid man writes books as cold and flat as graveyard stones.
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
Men
Writes
Flats
Stones
Cold
Books
Book
Fervid
Many
Graveyard
Writing
Flat
More quotes by 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
Every age, Through being beheld too close, is ill-discerned By those who have not lived past it.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Sing, seraph with the glory! heaven is high. Sing, poet with the sorrow! earth is low. The universe's inward voices cry Amen to either song of joy and woe. Sing, seraph, poet! sing on equally!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Pan is dead! great Pan is dead! Pan, Pan is dead!
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
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
The critics could never mortify me out of heart - because I love poetry for its own sake, - and, tho' with no stoicism and some ambition, care more for my poems than for my poetic reputation.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Wall must get the weather stain Before they grow the ivy.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And Chaucer, with his infantine Familiar clasp of things divine.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Every wish Is like a prayer--with God.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints,-I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!-and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Men of science, osteologists And surgeons, beat some poets, in respect For nature,-count nought common or unclean, Spend raptures upon perfect specimens Of indurated veins, distorted joints, Or beautiful new cases of curved spine While we, we are shocked at nature's falling off, We dare to shrink back from her warts and blains.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Where Christ brings His cross He brings His presence and where He is none are desolate, and there is no room for despair.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Deep violets, you liken to The kindest eyes that look on you, Without a thought disloyal.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
He lives most life whoever breathes most air.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
When we first met and loved, I did not build Upon the event with marble. . . .
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Very whitely still The lilies of our lives may reassure Their blossoms from their roots, accessible Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer Growing straight out of man's reach, on the hill. God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
In your patience ye are strong.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Nosegays! leave them for the waking, Throw them earthward where they grew Dim are such, beside the breaking Amaranths he looks unto. Folded eyes see brighter colors than the open ever do.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The denial of contemporary genius is the rule rather than the exception. No one counts the eagles in the nest, till there is a rush of wings and lo! they are flown.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
