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The exchange of sympathy for gratitude is the most princely thing!
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
Princely
Exchange
Sympathy
Gratitude
Thing
More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And Chaucer, with his infantine Familiar clasp of things divine.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love's sake only.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
May the good God pardon all good men.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Too much beauty, I reckon, is nothing but too much sun.
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
Wall must get the weather stain Before they grow the ivy.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
For 'Tis not in mere death that men die most.
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
I love you for the part of me that you bring out.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
You believe In God, for your part?--that He who makes Can make good things from ill things, best from worst, As men plant tulips upon dunghills when They wish them finest.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
A good neighbor sometimes cuts your morning up to mince-meat of the very smallest talk, then helps to sugar her bohea at night with your reputation.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write And, ever since, it grew more clean and white.
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
And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The man, most man, Works best for men, and, if most men indeed, He gets his manhood plainest from his soul: While, obviously, this stringent soul itself Obeys our old rules of development The Spirit ever witnessing in ours, And Love, the soul of soul, within the soul, Evolving it sublimely.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
There are nettles everywhere, but smooth, green grasses are more common still the blue of heaven is larger than the cloud.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If we tried To sink the past beneath our feet, be sure The future would not stand.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Behold me! I am worthy Of thy loving, for I love thee!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The large white owl that with eye is blind, That hath sate for years in the old tree hollow, Is carried away in a gust of wind.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
