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How strange now, looks the life he makes us lead So free we seem, so fettered fast we are!
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
Seems
Fetters
Looks
Fast
Life
Lead
Seem
Strange
Freedom
Free
Makes
Fettered
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Praise is deeper than the lips
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Good to forgive, Best to forget.
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Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
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Success in marriage is more than finding the right person: it is being the right person.
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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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A minute's success pays the failure of years.
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Hatred and cark and care, what place have they / In yon blue liberality of heaven?.
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The devil, that old stager, who leads downward, perhaps, but fiddles all the way!
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If thou tastest a crust of bread, thou tastest all the stars and all the heavens.
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Youth means love, Vows can't change nature, priests are only men.
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Good strong thick stupefying incense-smoke!
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Out of your whole life give but a moment! All of your life that has gone before, All to come after it, -so you ignore, So you make perfect the present, condense, In a rapture of rage, for perfection's endowment, Thought and feeling and soul and sense.
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What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me.
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Over my head his arm he flung, Against the world.
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You never know what life means till you die even throughout life, tis death that makes life live.
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It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad.
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Sorrow, the heart must bear, Sits in the home of each, conspicuous there. Many a circumstance, at least, Touches the very breast. For those Whom any sent away,--he knows: And in the live man's stead, Armor and ashes reach The house of each.
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Pleasure must succeed to pleasure, else past pleasure turns to pain
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But God has a few of us to whom he whispers in the ear The rest may reason and welcome 'tis we musicians know.
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Truth is truth howe'er it strike.
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