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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
More quotes by Robert Browning
For the preacher's merit or demerit, It were to be wished that the flaws were fewer In the earthen vessel, holding treasure, But the main thing is, does it hold good measure Heaven soon sets right all other matters!
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Why comes temptation but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph?
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One wise man's verdict outweighs all the fools'.
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I judge people by what they might be, - not are, nor will be.
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Never brag, never bluster, never blush.
Robert Browning
Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her- Next time, herself!-not the trouble behind her
Robert Browning
Again the Cousin's whistle! Go, my Love.
Robert Browning
Time'swheelsrunsbackor stops: Potterand clayendure.
Robert Browning
Aspire, break bounds. Endeavor to be good, and better still, best.
Robert Browning
The common problem, yours, mine, everyone's Is ? not to fancy what were fair in life Provided it could be ? but, finding first What may be, then find how to make it fair Up to our means.
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Let friend trust friends, and love demand love's like.
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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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The aim, if reached or not, makes great the life: Try to be Shakespeare, leave the rest to fate!
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Only I discern Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn.
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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.
Robert Browning
Of what I call God, And fools call Nature.
Robert Browning
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land, Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
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Good to forgive, Best to forget.
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And gain is gain, however small.
Robert Browning
Praise is deeper than the lips
Robert Browning