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We mortals cross the ocean of this world Each in his average cabin of a life The bests not big, the worst yields elbowroom.
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
Crosses
Average
Ocean
Cabin
Worst
Cabins
Bigs
Yields
Life
Yield
World
Mortals
Cross
More quotes by Robert Browning
For I say this is death and the sole death,- When a man's loss comes to him from his gain, Darkness from light, from knowledge ignorance, And lack of love from love made manifest.
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Never the time and the place And the loved one all together.
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Why comes temptation but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph?
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Oh never star Was lost here but it rose afar.
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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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Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.
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Success in marriage is more than finding the right person: it is being the right person.
Robert Browning
When I love most, love is disguised. In hate and when hate is surprised, in love, then I hate most.
Robert Browning
My care is for myself Myself am whole and sole reality.
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What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?
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A pretty woman's worth some pains to see.
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Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, 'A whole I planned, youth shows but half Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!
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Into the street the piper stepped, Smiling first a little smile As if he knew what magic slept In his quiet pipe the while. And the piper advanced And the children followed.
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Would you have your songs endure? Build on the human heart.
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There's a new tribunal now higher than God's -The educated man's!
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Good strong thick stupefying incense-smoke!
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Good to forgive, Best to forget.
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But there are times when patience proves at fault.
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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
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Truth never hurts the teller.
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