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Romantic love is an illusion. Most of us discover this truth at the end of a love affair or else when the sweet emotions of love lead us into marriage and then turn down their flames.

Thomas Moore

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Thomas Moore
Born: 1779
Born: May 28
Comedy Writer
Composer
Conductor
Historian
Jurist
Lyricist
Musician
Novelist
Performing Artist
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Singer
Songwriter
Writer
Dublin city
Tom Moore
Anacreon Moore
Thomas
the younger Brown
Thomas Little
Thomas Mur
Tomas Mur
Thomas Brown
Thomas Brown the younger
Emotion
Affair
Turn
Romance
Turns
Emotions
Else
Discover
Ends
Illusion
Truth
Lead
Heartbreak
Love
Sweet
Flames
Marriage
Romantic

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I have plenty of machinery around me what I really need is a more enchanting world in which to live and work.
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We let a river shower its banks with a spirit that invades the people living there, and we protect that river, knowing that without its blessings the people have no source of soul.
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In our prayer and meditation we hope for fulfilling ordinary life.
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With what a deep devotedness of woe I wept thy absence - o'er and o'er again Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, And memory, like a drop that, night and day, Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!
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It is quite cruel that a poet cannot wander through his regions of enchantment without having a critic, forever, like the old man of the sea, upon his back.
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It may help us, in those times of trouble, to remember that love is not only about relationship, it is also an affair of the soul.
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Humility, that low, sweet root, from which all heavenly virtues shoot.
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Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun, grow pure by being purely shone upon.
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From plants that wake when others sleep, from timid jasmine buds that keep their odour to themselves all day, but when the sunlight dies away let the delicious secret out to every breeze that roams about.
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Sweet flowers alone can say what passion fears revealing.
Thomas Moore
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The young May moon is beaming, love. The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love. How sweet to rove, Through Morna's grove, When the drowsy world is dreaming, love! Then awake! - the heavens look bright, my dear, 'Tis never too late for delight, my dear, And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!
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Came but for friendship, and took away love.
Thomas Moore
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The devil...the prowde spirite...cannot endure to be mocked.
Thomas Moore
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Every season hath its pleasure Spring may boast her flowery prime, Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries Brighten Autumn's sob'rer time.
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Go where we may, rest where we will, Eternal London haunts us still.
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Bastard Freedom waves Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.
Thomas Moore
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The past, the future: - two eternities!
Thomas Moore
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The heart that has truly loved never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close.
Thomas Moore
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T'is the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone.
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How many times do we lose an occasion for soul work by leaping ahead to final solutions without pausing to savor the undertones? We are a radically bottom-line society, eager to act and to end tension, and thus we lose opportunities to know ourselves for our motives and our secrets.
Thomas Moore