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We waste half our strength in a useless regretting We sit by old tombs in the dark too long.

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
Useless
Regret
Waste
Strength
Dark
Half
Long
Regretting
Tombs

More quotes by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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Give her not greatness. For great souls must stand Alone and lonely in this little world: Cleft rocks that show the great Creator's hand, Thither by earthquakes hurled.
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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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The art of being kind is all the world needs.
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Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear, your head like the golden rod, and we will go sailing away from here to the beautiful Land Of Nod.
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I hold it true that thoughts are things Endowed with bodies, breath, and wings, And that we send them forth to fill The world with good results--or ill.
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This dream of our youth will fade out as the splendor Fades from the skies when the sun sinks to sleep.
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Love is the only duty that we know.
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The splendid discontent of God With chaos made the world. And from the discontent of man The worlds best progress springs.
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Time sped. And the poet through sorrow Became like his suffering kind. Again he toiled over his poems To lighten the grief of his mind.
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There is nothing ridiculous in love.
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Hide in your heart a bitter thought, Still it has power to blight Think Love, although you speak it not It gives the world more light.
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All the past is not worth one today.
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I will not doubt, though sorrows fall like rain, And troubles swarm like bees about a hive I shall believe the heights for which I strive Are only reached by anguish and by pain And though I groan and tremble with my crosses, I yet shall see, through my severest losses, The greater gain.
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God sent us here to make mistakes
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There is no chance, no destiny, no fate, that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.
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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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Better than glory, or honors, or fame, (Though I am striving for those to-day) To know that some heart will cherish my name, And think of me kindly, with blessings, alway.
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There is new strength, repose of mind, and inspiration in fresh apparel.
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Love is a spy who is plotting treason, In league with that warm, red rebel, the Heart.
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There is no sudden entrance into Heaven. Slow is the ascent by the path of Love.
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