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Of what I call God, And fools call Nature.

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
Fools
Fool
Call
Nature

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Progress is The law of life: man is not Man as yet.
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White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so life's business being just the terrible choice.
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Genius has somewhat of the infantine but of the childish not a touch or taint.
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Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.
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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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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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Truth never hurt the teller.
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Day! Faster and more fast. O'er night's brim, day boils at last.
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One wise man's verdict outweighs all the fools'.
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Might she have loved me? just as well She might have hated, who can tell!
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Most progress is most failure.
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Our aspirations are our responsibilities.
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But there are times when patience proves at fault.
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The candid incline to surmise of late that the Christian faith proves false.
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What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?
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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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The lie was dead And damned, and truth stood up instead.
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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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Days decrease, / And autumn grows, autumn in everything.
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Look not down but up!
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