Quote

A book may be compared to your neighbor: if it be good, it cannot last too long if bad, you cannot get rid of it too early.

Rupert Brooke

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Rupert Brooke
Age: 28 †
Born: 1887
Born: January 1
Died: 1915
Died: January 1
Poet
Rugby
Warwickshire
Rupert Chawner Brooke
Rupert Chaucer Brooke
Good
Reading
Lasts
Last
Funny
Neighbour
Cannot
Compared
May
Neighbor
Book
Library
Long
Early

More quotes by Rupert Brooke

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Store up reservoirs of calm and content and draw on them at later moments when the source isn't there, but the need is very great.
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Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate, Love sells the proud heart's citadel to fate.
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All the little emptiness of love!
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Mud unto mud!--Death eddies near-- Not here the appointed End, not here! But somewhere, beyond Space and Time, Is wetter water, slimier slime!
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Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour, And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping.
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Youth is stranger than fiction.
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.. . . would I were In Grantchester, in Grantchester!
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And in that Heaven of all their wish, there shall be no more land, say fish
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But there's wisdom in women, of more than they have known, And thoughts go blowing through them, are wiser than their own.
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The cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble and the rough male kiss of blankets.
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Just now the lilac is in bloom All before my little room.
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In your arms was still delight, Quiet as a street at night And thoughts of you, I do remember, Were green leaves in a darkened chamber, Were dark clouds in a moonless sky.
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Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.
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And I shall find some girl perhaps, and a better one than you, With eyes as wise, but kindlier, and lips as soft, but true, and I dare say she will do.
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These laid the world away poured out the red Sweet wine of youth gave up the years to be Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene, That men call age and those who would have been, Their sons, they gave, their immortality.
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Spend in pure converse our eternal day Think each in each, immediately wise Learn all we lacked before hear, know, and say What this tumultuous body now denies And feel, who have laid our groping hands away And see, no longer blinded by our eyes.
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There's little comfort in the wise
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If I should die, think only this of me: that there's some corner of a foreign field that is for ever England.
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Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond But is there anything Beyond?
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Infinite hungers leap no more I in the chance swaying of your dress and love has changed to kindliness.
Rupert Brooke