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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
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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
Everything
Nothing
Something
Believe
Tolerate
Therefore
Hand
Hands
More quotes by Robert Browning
A minute's success pays the failure of years.
Robert Browning
How good is life, the mere living!
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A pretty woman's worth some pains to see.
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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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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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God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.
Robert Browning
how sad and bad and mad it was - but then, how it was sweet
Robert Browning
The great beacon light God sets in all, the conscience of each bosom.
Robert Browning
Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.
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Love is energy of life.
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Youth means love, Vows can't change nature, priests are only men.
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Truth is within ourselves.
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He who did well in war just earns the right, To begin doing well in peace.
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Have you found your life distasteful? My life did, and does, smack sweet. Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? Mine I saved and hold complete. Do your joys with age diminish? When mine fail me, I'll complain. Must in death your daylight finish? My sun sets to rise again.
Robert Browning
My sun sets to rise again.
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Only I discern Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn.
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Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!
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Faultless to a fault.
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Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.
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The peerless cup afloat Of the lake-lily is an urn some nymph Swims bearing high above her head.
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