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It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad.
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
Rose
Flower
Path
Way
Like
Myrtle
Roses
Mixed
Mad
More quotes by Robert Browning
Generations pass while some tree stands, and old families last not three oaks.
Robert Browning
Most progress is most failure.
Robert Browning
Of what I call God, And fools call Nature.
Robert Browning
Praise is deeper than the lips
Robert Browning
What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?
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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.
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I want to know a butcher paints, A baker rhymes for his pursuit, Candlestick-maker much acquaints His soul with song, or, haply mute, Blows out his brains upon the flute.
Robert Browning
Italy, my Italy! Queen Mary's saying serves for me (When fortune's malice Lost her Calais): Open my heart, and you will see Graved inside of it 'Italy.'
Robert Browning
Good to forgive, Best to forget.
Robert Browning
A man in armor is his armor's slave.
Robert Browning
Progress is The law of life: man is not Man as yet.
Robert Browning
Stand still, true poet that you are! I know you let me try and draw you. Some night you'll fail us: when afar You rise, remember one man saw you, Knew you, and named a star!
Robert Browning
And gain is gain, however small.
Robert Browning
God smiles as He has always smiled Ere suns and moons could wax and wane, Ere stars were thundergirt, or piled The Heavens, God thought on me His child Ordained a life for me, arrayed Its circumstances, every one To the minutest ay, God said This head this hand should rest upon Thus, ere He fashioned star or sun.
Robert Browning
Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity These are its sign and note and character.
Robert Browning
You should not take a fellow eight years old and make him swear to never kiss the girls.
Robert Browning
Days decrease, / And autumn grows, autumn in everything.
Robert Browning
Again the Cousin's whistle! Go, my Love.
Robert Browning
Day! Faster and more fast. O'er night's brim, day boils at last.
Robert Browning
Genius has somewhat of the infantine but of the childish not a touch or taint.
Robert Browning
