Quote

Some dreams we have are nothing else but dreams, Unnatural and full of contradictions Yet others of our most romantic schemes, Are something more than fictions.

Thomas Hood

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Thomas Hood
Age: 45 †
Born: 1799
Born: May 23
Died: 1845
Died: May 3
Humorist
Poet
Writer
London
England
T. H.
Others
Contradictions
Else
Unnatural
Dream
Schemes
Nothing
Contradiction
Something
Romantic
Dreams
Fiction
Full
Fictions

More quotes by Thomas Hood

Image
Ben Battle was a soldier bold, and used to war's alarms, But a cannon-ball took off his legs, so he laid down his arms.
Thomas Hood
Image
Lives of great men oft remind us as we o'er their pages turn, That we too may leave behind us - Letters that we ought to burn.
Thomas Hood
Image
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds - November!
Thomas Hood
Image
Spontaneously to God should turn the soul, Like the magnetic needle to the pole But what were that intrinsic virtue worth, Suppose some fellow, with more zeal than knowledge, Fresh from St. Andrew's College, Should nail the conscious needle to the north?
Thomas Hood
Image
Half of the failures in life come from pulling one's horse when he is leaping.
Thomas Hood
Image
Oh, if it be to choose and call thee mine, love, thou art every day my Valentine!
Thomas Hood
Image
No blessed leisure for love or hope, But only time for grief.
Thomas Hood
Image
She stood breast-high amid the corn Clasp'd by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won.
Thomas Hood
Image
How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!
Thomas Hood
Image
The Autumn is old The sere leaves are flying He hath gather'd up gold, And now he is dying- Old age, begin sighing!
Thomas Hood
Image
When he is forsaken, Withered and shaken, What can an old man do but die?
Thomas Hood
Image
Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died.
Thomas Hood
Image
What joy have I in June's return? My feet are parched-my eyeballs burn, I scent no flowery gust But faint the flagging zephyr springs, With dry Macadam on its wings, And turns me 'dust to dust.'
Thomas Hood
Image
I saw old autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence.
Thomas Hood
Image
Well for the drones of the social hive that there are bees of an industrious turn, willing, for an infinitesimal share of the honey, to undertake the labor of its fabrication.
Thomas Hood
Image
Frost is the greatest artist in our clime - he paints in nature and describes in rime.
Thomas Hood
Image
O men with sisters dear, O men with mothers and wives, It is not linen you 're wearing out, But human creatures' lives!
Thomas Hood
Image
Well, something must be done for May, The time is drawing nigh-- To figure in the Catalogue, And woo the public eye. Something I must invent and paint But oh my wit is not Like one of those kind substantives That answer Who and What?
Thomas Hood
Image
And ye, who have met with Adversity's blast, And been bow'd to the earth by its fury To whom the Twelve Months, that have recently pass'd Were as harsh as a prejudiced jury - Still, fill to the Future! and join in our chime, The regrets of remembrance to cozen, And having obtained a New Trial of Time, Shout in hopes of a kindlier dozen.
Thomas Hood
Image
The year's in wane There is nothing adorning The night has no eve, And the day has no morning Cold winter gives warning!
Thomas Hood