Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Dreams, books, are each a world and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good: Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
William Wordsworth
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
World
Blood
Pastime
Grows
Substantial
Books
Round
Happiness
Rounds
Strong
Flesh
Dream
Dreams
Book
Pure
Good
Grow
Tendrils
More quotes by William Wordsworth
A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart.
William Wordsworth
Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit, and play with similes, Loose type of things through all degrees.
William Wordsworth
Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality.
William Wordsworth
The first cuckoo's melancholy cry.
William Wordsworth
And I am happy when I sing.
William Wordsworth
Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
William Wordsworth
No motion has she now, no force she neither hears nor sees rolled around in earth's diurnal course, with rocks, and stones, and trees.
William Wordsworth
The childhood of today is the manhood of tomorrow
William Wordsworth
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns.
William Wordsworth
Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.
William Wordsworth
Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.
William Wordsworth
Up! up! my friend, and quit your books, Or surely you 'll grow double! Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks! Why all this toil and trouble?
William Wordsworth
In truth the prison, unto which we doom Ourselves, no prison is.
William Wordsworth
Open-mindedness is the harvest of a quiet eye.
William Wordsworth
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.
William Wordsworth
We murder to dissect.
William Wordsworth
Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee! . . . . . . Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: So didst thou travel on life's common way In cheerful godliness.
William Wordsworth
Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods.
William Wordsworth
But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things.
William Wordsworth
one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
William Wordsworth