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Who knows whither the clouds have fled? In the unscarred heaven they leave no wake And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, The heart forgets its sorrow and ache.

James Russell Lowell

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James Russell Lowell
Age: 72 †
Born: 1819
Born: February 22
Died: 1891
Died: August 12
Diplomat
Essayist
Journalist
Literary Critic
Poet
Writer
Cambridge
Massachusetts
Heart
Clouds
Sorrow
Whither
Tears
Fled
Leave
Forgets
Eyes
Ache
Heaven
Shed
Forget
Weather
Eye
Wake

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Let us be of good cheer, however, remembering that the misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never come.
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It is good To lengthen to the last a sunny mood.
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Fools, when their roof-tree falls, think it doomsday.
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And I honor the man who is willing to sink half his present repute for the freedom to think, and, when he has thought, be his cause strong or weak, Will risk t' other half for the freedom to speak.
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In the storm, like a prophet o'ermaddened, Thou singest and tossest thy branches Thy heart with the terror is gladdened, Thou forebodest the dread avalanches.... In the calm thou o'erstretchest the valleys With thine arms, as if blessings imploring, Like an old king led forth from his palace, When his people to battle are pouring.
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It is by presence of mind in untried emergencies that the native metal of man is tested.
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Keats longed for fame, but longed above all to deserve it.
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It is curious for one who studies the action and reaction of national literature on each other, to see the humor of Swift and Sterne and Fielding, after filtering through Richter, reappear in Carlyle with a tinge of Germanism that makes it novel, alien, or even displeasing, as the case may be, to the English mind.
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That pernicious sentiment, Our country, right or wrong.
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Light is the symbol of truth.
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Not suffering, but faint heart, is worst of woes.
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Stern men with empires in their brains.
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Aspiration sees only one side of every question possession many.
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The sentimentalist does not think of what he does so much as of what the world will think of what he does.
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Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne,- Yet that scaffold sways the Future, and, behind the dim unknown, Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own.
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An appeal to the reason of the people has never been known to fail in the long run.
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The fireflies o'er the meadow In pulses come and go.
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Taste is the next gift to genius.
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What a man pays for bread and butter is worth its market value, and no more. What he pays for love's sake is gold indeed, which has a lure for angels' eyes, and rings well upon God's touchstone.
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