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The art of being kind is all the world needs.
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
Kindness
Religion
Art
Needs
Kind
World
Eulogy
Creeds
More quotes by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
No fate could rob us of our own-- No circumstance can make it less What time removes was but a loan, For what was ours we still possess.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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
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
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.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
There is no sudden entrance into Heaven. Slow is the ascent by the path of Love.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Who climbs the mountain does not always climb.The winding road slants downward many a timeYet each descent is higher than the last.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Love is the only thing that pays for birth, Or makes death welcome. Oh, dear God above This beautiful but sad, perplexing earth, Pity the hearts that know--or know not--Love!
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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
We waste half our strength in a useless regretting We sit by old tombs in the dark too long.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
We ought to make the moments notes Of happy glad Thanksgiving The hours and days, a silent praise Of music we are living.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Wiped the cold dew-drops from his cheek And sought the mourner's side again. Once more, dear lady, I must speak: Your last remaining son was slain Just at the closing of the fight Twas he who sent me here to-night. God knows, the man said afterward, The fight itself was not so hard.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Not to the curious or impatient soulThat in the start, demands the end be shown,And at each step, stops waiting for a signBut to the tireless toiler toward the goal,Shall the great miracles of God be knownAnd life revealed, immortal and divine.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Dear friend, I pray thee, if thou wouldst be proving Thy strong regard for me, Make me no vows. Lip-service is not loving Let thy faith speak for thee.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
The loves of men but vary in degrees-- They find no new expression for the flame.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
God made poor woman with no heart, But gave her skill, and tact, and art, And so she lives, and plays her part. We must not blame, but pity her.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Trust in your own untried capacity.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
The sin and the shame and the sorrow, The crime and the want and the woe That are born there in your workshop, No hand can paint, you know.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
