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With spots of sunny openings, and with nooks To lie and read in, sloping into brooks.

Leigh Hunt

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Leigh Hunt
Age: 74 †
Born: 1784
Born: October 19
Died: 1859
Died: August 28
Autobiographer
Journalist
Literary Critic
Poet
Translator
Southgate
London
James Henry Leigh Hunt
Lying
Read
Sloping
Nooks
Openings
Brooks
Sunny
Spots
Opening

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To receive a present handsomely and in a right spirit, even when you have none to give in return, is to give one in return.
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The most fascinating women are those that can most enrich the every day moments of existence. In a particular and attaching sense, they are those that can partake our pleasures and our pains in the liveliest and most devoted manner. Beauty is little without this with it she is triumphant.
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I entrench myself in my books equally against sorrow and the weather.
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Light is, perhaps, the most wonderful of all visible things.
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Danger for danger's sake is senseless.
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Those who have lost an infant are never, in a way, without an infant.
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Improvement is nature.
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When moral courage feels that it is in the right, there is no personal daring of which it is incapable.
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Stolen sweets are always sweeter, Stolen kisses much completer, Stolen looks are nice in chapels, Stolen, stolen be your apples.
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This garden has a soul, I know its moods.
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Affection, like melancholy, magnifies trifles but the magnifying of the one is like looking through a telescope at heavenly objects that of the other, like enlarging monsters with a microscope.
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If you become a Nun, dear, The bishop Love will be The Cupids every one, dear! Will chant-'We trust in thee!'
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Nature, at all events, humanly speaking, is manifestly very fond of color for she has made nothing without it. Her skies are blue her fields, green her waters vary with her skies her animals, vegetables, minerals, are all colored. She paints a great any of them in apparently superfluous hues, as if to show the dullest eye how she loves color.
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If you are melancholy for the first time, you will find, upon a little inquiry, that others have been melancholy many times, and yet are cheerful now.
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Colors are the smiles of Nature. When they are extremely smiling, and break forth into other beauty besides, they are her laughs.
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There are two worlds: The world that we can measure with line and rule, and the world we feel with our hearts and imaginations.
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Did you ever observe that immoderate laughter always ends in a sigh?
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Christmas is the glorious time of great Too-Much.
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The last excessive feelings of delight are always grave.
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An exquisite invention this, Worthy of Love's most honeyed kiss,-- This art of writing billet-doux-- In buds, and odors, and bright hues! In saying all one feels and thinks In clever daffodils and pinks In puns of tulips and in phrases, Charming for their truth, of daisies.
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