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A tear that trembles for a little while Upon the trembling eyelid, till the world Wavers within its circle like a dream, Holds more of meaning in its narrow orb Than all the distant landscape that it blurs.

Henry Van Dyke

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Henry Van Dyke
Age: 80 †
Born: 1852
Born: November 10
Died: 1933
Died: April 10
Diplomat
Poet
Writer
Germantown
Philadelphia
Little
Landscape
Blur
Like
Till
Trembling
World
Tears
Tear
Eyelid
Meaning
Distant
Wavers
Within
Narrow
Blurs
Upon
Circle
Trembles
Dream
Holds
Orbs
Littles
Circles
Eyelids

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Happiness is inward, and not outward and so, it does not depend on what we have, but on what we are.
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I shall grow old, but never lose life's zest, because the road's last turn will be the best.
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One truly affectionate soul in a family will evert a sweetening and harmonizing influence upon all its members.
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Modest egotism is the salt of conversation you do not want too much of it, but if it is altogether omitted, everything tastes flat.
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So in the heart, When, fading slowly down the past, Fond memories depart, And each that leaves it seems the last Long after all the rest are flown, Returns a solitary tone,— The after-echo of departed years,— And touches all the soul to tears.
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Courage is the standing army of the soul which keeps it from conquest, pillage, and slavery.
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Some succeed because they are destined to, but most succeed because they are determined to.
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If all the skies were sunshine Our faces would be fain To feel once more upon them The cooling splash of rain. If all the world were music, Our hearts would often long For one sweet strain of silence, To break the endless song If life were always merry, Our souls would seek relief, And rest from weary laughter In the quiet arms of grief.
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Be grateful for the tiny details of your life and make room for unexpected and beautiful blessings.
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A peace that depends on fear is nothing but a suppressed war.
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Gratitude is the inward feeling of kindness received. Thankfulness is the natural impulse to express that feeling. Thanksgiving is the following of that impulse.
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There is a better thing than the observance of Christmas day, and that is, keeping Christmas.
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Love is not getting, but giving It is goodness, and honor, and peace and pure living.
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The worlds in which we live at heart are one, The world I am, the fruit of I have done And underneath these worlds of flower and fruit, The world I love,--the only living root.
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In warlike pomp, with banners flowing, The regiments of autumn stood: I saw their gold and scarlet glowing From every hillside, every wood.
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Like water spilt upon the ground--alas, Our little lives flow swiftly on and pass Yet may they bring rich harvests and green grass!
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Love is the heart s immortal thirst to be completely known and all forgiven.
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A friend is what the heart needs all the time.
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