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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
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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
Would
Break
Feat
Time
Heaven
Feats
Enjoy
Forcing
Force
Employ
Earth
Dues
Better
Eternity
Done
Creatures
Pent
Make
Teach
Nought
More quotes by Robert Browning
Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before Love, - Only sleep.
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What a thing friendship is - World without end.
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Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.
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Might she have loved me? just as well She might have hated, who can tell!
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Truth never hurts the teller.
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Love is energy of life.
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The ultimate, angels' law, Indulging every instinct of the soul There where law, life, joy, impulse are one thing!
Robert Browning
Thought is the soul of act.
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All poetry is difficult to read - The sense of it anyhow.
Robert Browning
The trouble that most of us find with the modern matched sets of clubs is that they don't really seem to know any more about the game than the old ones did.
Robert Browning
Our aspirations are our responsibilities.
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.
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Sing, riding 's a joy! For me I ride.
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No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers, The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold.
Robert Browning
Most progress is most failure.
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Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.
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I count life just a stuff To try the soul's strength on.
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Go in thy native innocence, rely On what thou hast of virtue, summon all, For God towards thee hath done his part, do thine.
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And let them pass, as they will too soon, With the bean-flowers' boon, And the blackbird's tune, And May, and June!
Robert Browning
Oh, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth, This autumn morning! How he sets his bones To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet. From the ripple to run over in its mirth
Robert Browning