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Life is a sheet of paper white / Whereon each one of us may write / His word or two, and then comes night.
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
May
Sheets
Writing
Paper
Life
Word
White
Comes
Write
Night
Whereon
Two
Sheet
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Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide.
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There is no self-delusion more fatal than that which makes the conscience dreamy with the anodyne of lofty sentiments, while the life is groveling and sensual
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Blessed are they who have nothing to say and who cannot be persuaded to say it.
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The thing we long for, that we are For one transcendent moment.
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New occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient good uncouth They must upward still and onward, who would keep abreast of truth.
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As one lamp lights another, nor grows less,So nobleness enkindleth nobleness.
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Stories now, to suit a public taste, must be half epigram, half pleasant vice.
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His heart kep' goin' pity-pat, But hern went pity-Zekle.
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Suddenly all the sky is hid As with the shutting of a lid, One by one great drops are falling Doubtful and slow, Down the pane they are crookedly crawling, And the wind breathes low Slowly the circles widen on the river, Widen and mingle, one and all Here and there the slenderer flowers shiver, Struck by an icy rain-drop’s fall.
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Through aisles of long-drawn centuries my spirit walks in thought.
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If the devil take a less hateful shape to us than to our fathers, he is as busy with us as with them.
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No mud can soil us but the mud we throw.
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Compromise makes a good umbrella, but a poor roof it is temporary expedient, often wise in party politics, almost sure to be unwise in statesmanship.
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