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Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!
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
Incomplete
Curse
Effort
Word
Human
Humans
Inscribe
Artistry
Haunting
More quotes by Robert Browning
Genius has somewhat of the infantine but of the childish not a touch or taint.
Robert Browning
Take away love and our earth is a tomb.
Robert Browning
When the liquor's out, why clink the cannikin?
Robert Browning
I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time.
Robert Browning
Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before Love, - Only sleep.
Robert Browning
Of what I call God, And fools call Nature.
Robert Browning
Twere too absurd to slight For the hereafter the todays delight!
Robert Browning
In this world, who can do a thing, will not And who would do it, cannot, I perceive: Yet the will's somewhat — somewhat, too, the power — And thus we half-men struggle.
Robert Browning
Man partly is and wholly hopes to be.
Robert Browning
The great beacon light God sets in all, the conscience of each bosom.
Robert Browning
Oh the wild joys of living! The leaping from rock to rock ... the cool silver shock of the plunge in a pool's living waters.
Robert Browning
My sun sets to rise again.
Robert Browning
Was there nought better than to enjoy? No feat which, done, would make time break, And let us pent-up creatures through Into eternity, our due? No forcing earth teach heaven's employ?
Robert Browning
It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad.
Robert Browning
But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, to dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, and baffled, get up and begin again.
Robert Browning
Good to forgive, Best to forget.
Robert Browning
Mid the sharp, short emerald wheat, scarce risen three fingers well, The wild tulip at the end of its tube, blows out its great red bell, Like a thin clear bubble of blood, for the children to pick and sell.
Robert Browning
There are those who believe something, and therefore will tolerate nothing and on the other hand, those who tolerate everything, because they believe nothing.
Robert Browning
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.
Robert Browning
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Robert Browning
