Quote

There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Age: 68 †
Born: 1850
Born: November 5
Died: 1919
Died: October 30
Author
Poet
Writer
Janesville
Wisconsin
Rooms
File
Pleasure
Aisle
Pain
Files
Must
Halls
Narrow
Train
Large
Lordly
Room
Aisles

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Give, and thou shalt receive. Give thoughts of cheer,Of courage and success, to friend and stranger.And from a thousand sources, far and near,Strength will be sent thee in thy hour of danger.
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Laugh, and the world laughs with you: Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own.
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But now I know that there is no killing A thing like Love, for it laughs at Death. There is no hushing, there is no stilling That which is part of your life and breath. You may bury it deep, and leave behind you The land, the people that knew your slain It will push the sods from its grave, and find you On wastes of water or desert plain.
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Ah, lady! it is hardly what you thought it, This life of luxury and social power You gave yourself as principal, and bought it, But God extracts the interest hour by hour.
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Hell is wherever Love is not, and Heaven Is Love's location. No dogmatic creed, No austere faith based on ignoble fear Can lead thee into realms of joy and peace. Unless the humblest creatures on the earth Are bettered by thy loving sympathy Think not to find a Paradise beyond.
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There is nothing we cannot live down, and rise above, and overcome.
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There is nothing ridiculous in love.
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Talk faith. The world is better off without, Your uttered ignorance and morbid doubt.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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For every hour of pain I have had a day of pleasure. For every moment of worry, an hour of content.
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God sent us here to make mistakes
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So many gods, so many creeds, so many paths that wind and wind while just the art of being kind is all the sad world needs.
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For this is wisdom- to love and live To take what fate or the Gods may give, To ask no question, to make no prayer, To kiss the lips and caress the hair, Speed passion's ebb as we greet its flow, To have and to hold, and, in time--let go.
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Love is the impulse which directs the world, And all things know it and obey its power. Man, in the maelstrom of his passions whirled The bee that takes the pollen to the flower The earth, uplifting her bare, pulsing breast To fervent kisses of the amorous sun-- Each but obeys creative Love's behest, Which everywhere instinctively is done.
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Trust in your own untried capacity.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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You never can tell when you send a word, Like an arrow shot from a bow By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind, Just where it may chance to go!
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The passion you forbade my lips to utter Will not be silenced. You must hear it in The sullen thunders when they roll and mutter: And when the tempest nears, with wail and din, I know your calm forgetfulness is broken, And to your heart you whisper, He has spoken.
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Thou canst not force my soul to wish thee ill, That is the only evil that can kill.
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I Love your lips when they're wet with wine and red with wicked desire.
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Do you wish the world were happy? Then remember day by day, just to scatter seeds of kindness as you pass along the way. . . .
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Better to wait and yearn, and still to wait, And die at last with unappeased desire, Than live to be the jest of such a fate, For that is my conception of hell-fire.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox