Quote

There are ghosts in the room. As I sit here alone, from the dark corners there They come out of the gloom, And they stand at my side and they lean on my chair.

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
Sides
Chair
Alone
Chairs
Dark
Ghost
Fear
Corners
Come
Room
Rooms
Gloom
Side
Ghosts
Stand
Lean

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Who would attain to summits still and fair,Must nerve himself through valleys of despair.
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All the past is not worth one today.
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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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You may choose your words like a connoisseur, And polish it up with art, But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays, Is the word that comes from the heart.
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Always continue the climb. It is possible for you to do whatever you choose, if you first get to know who you are and are willing to work with a power that is greater than ourselves to do it.
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The loves of men but vary in degrees-- They find no new expression for the flame.
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I detect more good than evil in humanity. Love lights more fires than hate extinguishes, And men grow better as the world grows old.
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There is new strength, repose of mind, and inspiration in fresh apparel.
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With care, and skill, and cunning art, She parried Time's malicious dart, And kept the years at bay, Till passion entered in her heart and aged her in a day!
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Love is the only duty that we know.
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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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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.
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I knew it the first of the summer, I knew it the same at the end, That you and your love were plighted, But couldn't you be my friend?
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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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Who climbs the mountain does not always climb.The winding road slants downward many a timeYet each descent is higher than the last.
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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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When we tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new. This restless craving in the souls of men spurs them to climb, and to seek the mountain view.
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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.
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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.
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I like the roar of cities. In the mart, Where busy toilers strive for place and gain, I seem to read humanity's great heart, And share its hopes, its pleasures, and its pain.
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