Quote

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!

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
Kind
Shot
Never
Shots
Like
Anger
Archer
Blind
Arrow
Word
Arrows
Chance
Bows
Tell
Cruel
May
Send

More quotes by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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Let the dream go. Are there not other dreams In vastness of clouds hid from thy sight That yet shall gild with beautiful gold gleams, And shoot the shadows through and through with light? What matters one lost vision of the night? Let the dream go!
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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It is impossible to pursue a successful literary career and follow the advice of all one's 'best friends'.I feel compelled to follow the light which my own intellect & judgement cast upon my way, rather than any one of the many conflicting rays which other minds would lend me.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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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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High in the heavens I saw the moon this morning, Albeit the sun shone bright Unto my soul it spoke, in voice of warning, Remember Night!
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The man who radiates good cheer, who makes life happier wherever he meets it, is always a man of vision and faith.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Talk health. The dreary, never-changing tale Of mortal maladies is worn and stale. You cannot charm, or interest, or please By harping in that minor chord, disease. Say you are well, or all is well with you, And God shall hear your words and make them true.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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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.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Use all your hidden forces. Do not miss The purpose of this life, and do not wait For circumstance to mould or change your fate.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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I think I never passed so sad an hour, Dear friend, as that one at the church to-night. The edifice from basement to the tower Was one resplendent blaze of coloured light.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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And she has a thousand virtues and not one acknowledged sin, But she is the sort of person you could liken to a pin. And she pricks you, and she sticks you, in a way that can't be said, When you seek for what has hurt you, why, you cannot find the head.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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It is a common fate -- a woman's lot -- To waste on one the riches of her soul, Who takes the wealth she gives him, but cannot Repay the interest, and much less the whole.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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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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How happy they are, in all seeming, How gay, or how smilingly proud, How brightly their faces are beaming, These people who make up the crowd!
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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And however dark the skies may appear, And however souls may blunder, I tell you it all will work out clear, For good lies over and under.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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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.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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It stands in the light transfigured, It speaks from the heights above, Each Soul Is Its Own Redeemer There Is No Law But Love.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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One ship drives east and another drives west With the selfsame winds that blow. Tis the set of the sails And not the gales Which tells us the way to go. Like the winds of the seas are the ways of fate, As we voyage along through the life: Tis the set of a soul That decides its goal, And not the calm or the strife.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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'Tis easy enough to be pleasant, When life flows along like a song But the man worth while is the one who will smile when everything goes dead wrong.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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I was as pure as the morning When I first looked on your face I knew I never could reach you In your high, exalted place.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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There is no balking genius. Only death can silence it or hinder.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox