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Earth could not hold us both, nor can one heaven Contain my deadliest enemy and me.

Robert Southey

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Robert Southey
Age: 68 †
Born: 1774
Born: August 12
Died: 1843
Died: March 21
Biographer
Historian
Poet
Politician
Translator
Writer
Bristol
Gloucestershire
Robert Southey
Contain
Hold
Enemy
Heaven
Earth
Deadliest

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That charity is bad which takes from independence its proper pride, from mendicity its salutary shame.
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The true one of youth's love, proving a faithful helpmate in those years when the dream of life is over, and we live in its realities.
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If you would be pungent, be brief.
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Thou hast been called, O sleep, the friend of woe, But 'tis the happy that have called thee so.
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By writing much, one learns to write well.
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And when my own Mark Antony Against young Caesar strove, And Rome's whole world was set in arms, The cause was,--all for love.
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Man hath a weary pilgrimage, As through the word he wends On every stage, from youth to age, Still discontent attends.
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Whoever has tasted the breath of morning knows that the most invigorating and most delightful hours of then day are commonly spent in bed though it is the evident intention of nature that we should enjoy and profit by them.
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Ye who dwell at home, Ye do not know the terrors of the main.
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Few people give themselves time to be friends.
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She comes majestic with her swelling sails, The gallant Ship: along her watery way, Homeward she drives before the favouring gales Now flirting at their length the streamers play, And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze.
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A wise judge, by the craft of the law, was never seduced from its purpose.
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Let us depart! the universal sun Confines not to one land his blessed beams Nor is man rooted, like a tree, whose seed, the winds on some ungenial soil have cast there, where it cannot prosper.
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My name is Death: the last best friend am I.
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It is not for man to rest in absolute contentment. He is born to hopes and aspirations as the sparks fly upward, unless he has brutalized his nature and quenched the spirit of immortality which is his portion.
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Love is indestructible, Its holy flame forever burneth From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.
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Affliction is not sent in vain, young man, from that good God, who chastens whom he loves.
Robert Southey
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The solitary Bee Whose buzzing was the only sound of life, Flew there on restless wing, Seeking in vain one blossom where to fix.
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What will not woman, gentle woman dare when strong affection stirs her spirit up?
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Little, indeed, does it concern us in this our mortal stage, to inquire whence the spirit hath come but of what infinite concern is the consideration whither it is going. Surely such consideration demands the study of a life.
Robert Southey