Quote

It has always been my belief that children inherit the suppressed tendencies of their parents. A clergyman's son frequently shows abnormal tastes for the pleasures that his father denied himself.

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
Pleasures
Parent
Denied
Clergyman
Pleasure
Denial
Clergymen
Belief
Tendencies
Suppressed
Father
Son
Inherit
Shows
Abnormal
Children
Taste
Tastes
Always
Generations
Frequently
Parents

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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.
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It is never too late to begin rebuilding, Though all into ruins your life seems hurled For see! how the light of the New Year is gilding The wan, worn face of the bruised old world.
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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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While forced to dwell apart from thy dear face, Love, robed like sorrow, led me by the hand And taught my doubting heart to understand That which has puzzled all the human race.
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Love gives us copious potions of delight, Of pain and ecstasy, and peace and care Love leads us upward, to the mountain height, And, like an angel, stands beside us there Then thrusts us, demon-like, in some abyss: Where, in the darkness of despair, we grope, Till, suddenly, Love greets us with a kiss And guides us back to flowery fields of hope.
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Trust in thine own untried capacity As thou wouldst trust in God himself. Thy soul Is but an emanation from the whole. Thou dost not dream what forces lie in thee, Vast and unfathomed as the grandest sea.
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Love is the crown that glorifies the curse That brands and burdens it is life and death. It is the great law of the universe And nothing can exist without its breath.
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Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it.
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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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Good music is wine turned to sound
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Let me not hurt, by any selfish deed Or thoughtless word, the heart of foe or friend Nor would I pass, unseeing, worthy need, Or sin by silence when I should defend... The world is better that I lived to-day.
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There is nothing we cannot live down, and rise above, and overcome.
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Love is as bitter as the dregs of sin, As sweet as clover-honey in its cell Love is the password whereby souls get in To Heaven--the gate that leads, sometimes, to Hell.
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You are your own devil, you are your own God, You fashioned the paths that your footsteps have trod, And no one can save you from error or sin, Until you shall hark to the Spirit within.
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Then I turned to him commanding That he go the way he came, whence he came. But he answered me in sorrow, May the Past not seek to borrow From the Present without blame - Just one memory from its store, Ere it goes to come no more, Back the pathway that it came, whence it came?
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Between the finite and the infinite The missing link of Love has left a void. Supply the link, and earth with Heaven will join In one continued chain of endless life.
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All roads that lead to God are good.
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The birds laugh loud and long together When Fashion's followers speed away At the first cool breath of autumn weather. Why, this is the time, cry the birds, to stay! When the deep calm sea and the deep sky over Both look their passion through sun-kissed space, As a blue-eyed maid and her blue-eyed lover Might each gaze into the other's face.
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This world is a vaporous jest at best, Tossed off by the gods in laughter, And a cruel attempt at wit were it, If nothing better came after.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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O skies, be calm! O winds, blow free - Blow all my ships safe home to me! But if thou sendest some a-wrack, To never more come sailing back, Send any - all that skim the sea, But bring my love-ship home to me.
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