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That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows Alarms of wars, the daunting wars, the death of it?
Gerard Manley Hopkins
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Gerard Manley Hopkins
Age: 45 †
Born: 1844
Born: June 28
Died: 1889
Died: July 8
Poet
Writer
London
England
Hopkins
War
Piecemeal
Death
Daunting
Alarms
Allows
Wars
Pure
Poor
Peace
More quotes by Gerard Manley Hopkins
No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear, Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
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Birds buildbut not I build no, but strain, Time's eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes. Mine,O thou lord of life, send my roots rain.
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I do not think I have ever seen anything more beautiful than the bluebell I have been looking at. I know the beauty of our Lord by it.
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I do not write for the public. You are my public and I hope to convert you.
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What is all this juice and all this joy?
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God?is so great that all things give him glory if you mean they should.
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And the headbonny ash that sits over the burn. What would the world be, once bereft Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left, O Let them be left, wildness and wet: Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
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The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
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Natural heart's ivy, Patience masks Our ruins of wrecked past purpose.
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Summer ends now now, barbarous in beauty, the Stooks arise Around up above, what wind-walks! what lovely behavior Of silk-sack clouds! Has wilder, willful-waiver Meal-drift molded ever and melted across skies?
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I am all at once what Christ is, ' since he was what I am, and This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, ' patch, matchwood, immortal diamond, Is immortal diamond.
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I have desired to go Where springs not fail, To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail And a few lilies blow.
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Give beauty back, beauty, beauty, beauty, back to God, beauty's self and beauty's giver.
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Any day, any minute we bless God for our being or for anything, for food, for sunlight, we do and are what we were meant for, madefor--things that give and mean to give God glory.
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Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend With thee but, sir, so what I plead is just. Why do sinners' ways prosper? and why must Disappointment all I endeavour end?
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Nothing is so beautiful as spring- When weeds in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush.
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ELECTED Silence, sing to me And beat upon my whorlèd ear, Pipe me to pastures still and be The music that I care to hear.
Gerard Manley Hopkins
Life death all does end and each day dies with sleep.
Gerard Manley Hopkins
When I compare myself, my being-myself, with anything else whatever, all things alike, all in the same degree, rebuff me with blank unlikeness.
Gerard Manley Hopkins
Beauty is a relation, and the apprehension of it a comparison.
Gerard Manley Hopkins