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Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
William Wordsworth
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William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Beauty
Beautiful
Writing
Chakra
Heart
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Life
Fill
Breathing
Paper
Written
More quotes by William Wordsworth
One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.
William Wordsworth
For nature then to me was all in all.
William Wordsworth
Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.
William Wordsworth
Either still I find Some imperfection in the chosen theme, Or see of absolute accomplishment Much wanting, so much wanting, in myself, That I recoil and droop, and seek repose In listlessness from vain perplexity, Unprofitably travelling towards the grave.
William Wordsworth
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.
William Wordsworth
In heaven above, And earth below, they best can serve true gladness Who meet most feelingly the calls of sadness.
William Wordsworth
Thought and theory must precede all action, that moves to salutary purposes. Yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.
William Wordsworth
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.
William Wordsworth
As in the eye of Nature he has lived, So in the eye of Nature let him die!
William Wordsworth
Worse than idle is compassion if it ends in tears and sighs.
William Wordsworth
The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
William Wordsworth
For by superior energies more strict affiance in each other faith more firm in their unhallowed principles, the bad have fairly earned a victory over the weak, the vacillating, inconsistent good.
William Wordsworth
We live by admiration, hope and love.
William Wordsworth
Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster child, her inmate man, Forget the glories he hath known And that imperial palace whence he came.
William Wordsworth
She was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight, A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, Like twilights too her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn.
William Wordsworth
Then blame not those who, by the mightiest lever Known to the moral world, Imagination.
William Wordsworth
The unconquerable pang of despised love.
William Wordsworth
My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
William Wordsworth
Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
William Wordsworth
Small service is true service, while it lasts.
William Wordsworth
