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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
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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
Contemporary
Flown
Till
Nest
Wings
Nests
Rule
Eagles
Genius
Counts
Rather
Rush
Denial
Exception
More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Souls are gregarious in a sense, but no soul touches another, as a general rule.
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
And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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
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
There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb The crowns o' the world oh, eyes sublime With tears and laughter for all time!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
O, brothers! let us leave the shame and sin Of taking vainly in a plaintive mood, The holy name of Grief--holy herein, That, by the grief of One, came all our good.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If we tried To sink the past beneath our feet, be sure The future would not stand.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Books are men of higher stature, and the only men that speak aloud for future times to hear.
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
And Chaucer, with his infantine Familiar clasp of things divine.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
But since he had The genius to be loved, why let him have The justice to be honoured in his grave.
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
I cannot speak In happy tones the tear drops on my cheek Show I am sad But I can speak Of grace to suffer with submission meek, Until made glad.
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
Who so loves believes the impossible.
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
When we first met and loved, I did not build Upon the event with marble. . . .
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
Too much beauty, I reckon, is nothing but too much sun.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
