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To know, to esteem, to love,-and then to part, Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Age: 61 †
Born: 1772
Born: October 21
Died: 1834
Died: July 25
Critic
Literary Critic
Philosopher
Poet
Theologian
Ottery St Mary
Devon
S. T. Coleridge
Many
Heart
Tale
Love
Tales
Life
Esteem
Feeling
Feelings
Makes
Part
More quotes by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
That only can with propriety be styled refinement which, by strengthening the intellect, purifies the manners.
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How strange and awful is the synthesis of life and death in the gusty winds and falling leaves of an autumnal day!
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He holds him with his glittering eye, And listens like a three years' child.
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How inimitably graceful children are in general-before they learn to dance.
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There is nothing insignificant-nothing.
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Silence does not always mark wisdom.
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Intense study of the Bible will keep any writer from being vulgar, in point of style.
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Summer has set in with its usual severity.
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A great mind must be androgynous.
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Boys and girls, And women, that would groan to see a child Pull off an insect's leg, all read of war, The best amusement for our morning meal.
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Moral obligation is to me so very strong a Stimulant, that in 9 cases out of ten it acts as a Narcotic. The Blow that should rouse, stuns me.
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Her skin was white as leprosy.
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The whole faculties of man must be exerted in order to call forth noble energies and he who is not earnestly sincere lives in but half his being, self-mutilated, self-paralyzed.
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Intellect really exists in its products its kingdom is here.
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Joy is the sweet voice, joy the luminous cloud. We in ourselves rejoice! And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight, all melodies the echoes of that voice, all colours a suffusion from that light.
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Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze - On me alone it blew.
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There are three classes into which all the women past seventy that ever I knew were to be divided: 1. That dear old soul 2. That old woman 3. That old witch.
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For compassion a human heart suffices, but for full and adequate sympathy, with joy, an angel's only.
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A Gothic church is a petrified religion.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Bells, the poor man's only music.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
