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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

More quotes by Leigh Hunt

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Jenny kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in: Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I'm growing old, but add-- Jenny kissed me!
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Light is, perhaps, the most wonderful of all visible things.
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Beauty too often sacrifices to fashion. The spirit of fashion is not the beautiful, but the wilful not the graceful, but the fantastic not the superior in the abstract, but the superior in the worst of all concretes,-the vulgar.
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Oh for a seat in some poetic nook, Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook!
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Poetry is the breath of beauty.
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A pleasure so exquisite as almost to amount to pain.
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Central depth of purple, Leaves more bright than rose, Who shall tell what brightest thought Out of darkness grows? Who, through what funereal pain, Souls to love and peace attain? - Leigh Hunt (James Henry Leigh Hunt
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Fishes do not roar they cannot express any sound of suffering and therefore the angler chooses to think they do not suffer, more than it is convenient for him to fancy. Now it is a poor sport that depends for its existence on the want of a voice in the sufferer, and of imagination in the sportsman.
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There is no greater mistake in the world than the looking upon every sort of nonsense as want of sense.
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Did you ever observe that immoderate laughter always ends in a sigh?
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The beautiful attracts the beautiful.
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Write me as one who loves his fellow men.
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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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There seems a life in hair, though it be dead.
Leigh Hunt
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The fish is swift, small-needing, vague yet clear, A cold, sweet, silver life, wrapped in round waves.
Leigh Hunt
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The perfection of conversational intercourse is when the breeding of high life is animated by the fervor of genius.
Leigh Hunt
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The last excessive feelings of delight are always grave.
Leigh Hunt
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This garden has a soul, I know its moods.
Leigh Hunt
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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!'
Leigh Hunt
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Part of our good consists in the endeavor to do sorrows away, and in the power to sustain them when the endeavor fails,--to bear them nobly, and thus help others to bear them as well.
Leigh Hunt