Quote

What a name! Was it love or praise? Speech half-asleep or song half-awake? I must learn Spanish, one of these days, Only for that slow sweet name's sake.

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
Half
Slow
Learn
Praise
Song
Sake
Must
Speech
Love
Sweet
Name
Spanish
Days
Asleep
Names
Awake

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Then welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain Learn, nor account the pang dare, never grudge the throe!
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O never star Was lost here We all aspire to heaven and there is heaven Above us. If I stoop Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud, It is but for a time I press God's lamp Close to my breast its splendor soon or late Will pierce the gloom. I shall emerge some day.
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Love is energy of life.
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Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat.
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He guides me and the bird. In His good time!
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All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children's dower.
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That's the wise thrush he sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture!
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It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad.
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Oh never star Was lost here but it rose afar.
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With this same key Shakespeare unlocked his heart once more! Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare he!
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All good things Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh helps soul!
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Oh, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth, This autumn morning! How he sets his bones To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet. From the ripple to run over in its mirth
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We mortals cross the ocean of this world Each in his average cabin of a life The bests not big, the worst yields elbowroom.
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If you can sit at set of sun And count the deeds that you have done And counting find oneself-denying act, one word That eased the heart of him that heard. One glance most kind, Which fell like sunshine where he went, Then you may count that day well spent.
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Shun death, is my advice.
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To do good things in the world, first you must know who you are and what gives meaning to your life.
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When a man's busy, why leisure Strikes him as wonderful pleasure: 'Faith, and at leisure once is he? Straightway he wants to be busy.
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How strange now, looks the life he makes us lead So free we seem, so fettered fast we are!
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The heavens and earth stay as they were my heart Beats as it beat: the truth remains the truth.
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What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me.
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