Quote

Say not a small event! Why small? Costs it more pain that this ye call A great event should come to pass From that? Untwine me from the mass Of deeds which make up life, one deed Power shall fall short in or exceed!

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
Make
Shall
Costs
Life
Small
Event
Call
Deeds
Pain
Pass
Fall
Mass
Power
Cost
Come
Short
Exceed
Great
Events
Deed

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It 's wiser being good than bad It 's safer being meek than fierce It 's fitter being sane than mad. My own hope is, a sun will pierce The thickest cloud earth ever stretched That after Last returns the First, Though a wide compass round be fetched.
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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.
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Wander at will, Day after day,-- Wander away, Wandering still-- Soul that canst soar! Body may slumber: Body shall cumber Soul-flight no more.
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Lofty designs must close in like effects.
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Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.
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I count life just a stuff To try the soul's strength on.
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I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive,- what time, what circuit first, I ask not but unless God send his hail Or blinding fire-balls, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time.
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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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Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.
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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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O never star Was lost here We all aspire to heaven and there is heaven Above us. If I stoop Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud, It is but for a time I press God's lamp Close to my breast its splendor soon or late Will pierce the gloom. I shall emerge some day.
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In heaven I yearn for knowledge, account all else inanity On earth I confess an itch for the praise of fools - that's vanity
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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's a man's age? He must hurry more, that's all Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold.
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He who did well in war just earns the right, To begin doing well in peace.
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Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.
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What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew.
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Over my head his arm he flung, Against the world.
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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.
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Days decrease, / And autumn grows, autumn in everything.
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