Quote

Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, 'A whole I planned, youth shows but half Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!

Robert Browning

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Robert Browning
Age: 77 †
Born: 1812
Born: May 7
Died: 1889
Died: December 12
Dramaturgy
Playwright
Poet
Writer
London
England
Robert Barrett Browning
Browning
Time
Inspirational
Trust
Planned
Life
Shows
Hand
Aging
Hands
Grows
Planning
Best
Age
Youth
Firsts
Lasts
Afraid
First
Last
Along
Whole
Half
Motivational
Made
Times
Grow
Saith

More quotes by Robert Browning

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Strike when thou wilt, the hour of rest, but let my last days be my best.
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A face to lose youth for, to occupy age With the dream of, meet death with.
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No, when the fight begins within himself, / A man's worth something.
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Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!
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Unless you can love, as the angels may, With the breadth of heaven betwixt you Unless you can dream that his faith is fast, Through behoving and unbeloving Unless you can die when the dream is past- Oh, never call it loving!
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Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity These are its sign and note and character.
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It 's wiser being good than bad It 's safer being meek than fierce It 's fitter being sane than mad. My own hope is, a sun will pierce The thickest cloud earth ever stretched That after Last returns the First, Though a wide compass round be fetched.
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My sun sets to rise again.
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Only I discern Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn.
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Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.
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One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake.
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Let friend trust friends, and love demand love's like.
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It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad.
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Again the Cousin's whistle! Go, my Love.
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Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.
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Most progress is most failure.
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Be sure they sleep not whom God needs.
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Where the apple reddens never pry - lest we lose our Edens, Eve and I.
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For I say this is death and the sole death,- When a man's loss comes to him from his gain, Darkness from light, from knowledge ignorance, And lack of love from love made manifest.
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Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat.
Robert Browning