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A glance, a word -- and joy or pain befalls.... How slight the links are in the chain that binds us to our destiny!

Thomas Bailey Aldrich

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Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Age: 70 †
Born: 1836
Born: November 2
Died: 1907
Died: March 19
Editor
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Portsmouth
New Hampshire
Destiny
Befalls
Joy
Binds
Word
Glance
Pain
Slight
Glances
Chain
Links
Chains

More quotes by Thomas Bailey Aldrich

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Shakespeare is forever coming into our affairs -- putting in his oar, so to speak -- with some pat word or sentence.
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What is slang in one age sometimes goes into the vocabulary of the purist in the next.
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That was indeed to live -- at one bold swoop to wrest from darkling death the best that death to life can give.
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No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.
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To keep the heart unwrinkled, to be hopeful, kindly, cheerful, reverent that is to triumph over old age.
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The man who suspects his own tediousness is yet to be born.
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What is lovely never dies, but passes into other loveliness, Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.
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The fanatic has the courage of his conviction and the intolerance of his courage. He is opposed to the death penalty for murder, but he would willingly have anyone electrocuted who disagreed with him on the subject.
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The young girl in my story is to be as sensitive to praise as a prism is to light. Whenever anybody praises her she breaks into colors.
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The ring of a false coin is not more recognizable than that of a rhyme setting forth a false sorrow.
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How fugitive and brief is mortal life between the budding and the falling leaf.
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The possession of unlimited power will make a despot of almost any man. There is a possible Nero in the gentlest human creature that walks.
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Day is a snow-white Dove of heaven That from the East glad message brings. Night is a stealthy, evil Raven, Wrapped to the eyes in his black wings.
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With the tears a Land hath shed. Their graves should ever be green.
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Hebe's here, May is here! The air is fresh and sunny And the miser-bees are busy Hoarding golden honey.
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So I sit there kicked my heels, thinking about New Orleans, and watching a morbid blue-bottle fly attempt to commit suicide by butting his head against the windowpane.
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I beg you come tonight and dine A welcome waits you and sound wine The Roederer chilly to a charm As Juno's breasts the claret warm.
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Gracious to all, to none subservient, Without offense he spoke the word he meant
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Black Tragedy lets slip her grim disguise and shows you laughing lips and roguish eyes but when, unmasked, gay Comedy appears, how wan her cheeks are, and what heavy tears!
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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Dialect tempered with slang is an admirable medium of communication between persons who have nothing to say and persons who would not care for anything properly said.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich