Quote

Not Chaos, not the darkest pit of lowest Erebus, nor aught of blinder vacancy, scooped out by help of dreams - can breed such fear and awe as fall upon us often when we look into our Minds, into the Mind of Man.

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
Look
Dreams
Vacancy
Looks
Help
Breed
Mind
Upon
Darkest
Men
Fear
Pits
Often
Awe
Fall
Lowest
Blinder
Helping
Chaos
Scooped
Dream
Minds
Aught

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One with more of soul in his face than words on his tongue.
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Then blame not those who, by the mightiest lever Known to the moral world, Imagination.
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What know we of the Blest above but that they sing, and that they love?
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[Mathematics] is an independent world created out of pure intelligence.
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Dreams, books, are each a world.
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The stars of midnight shall be dear To her and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
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Poetry has never brought me in enough money to buy shoestrings.
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The child is the father of man.
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The Poet, gentle creature as he is, Hath, like the Lover, his unruly times His fits when he is neither sick nor well, Though no distress be near him but his own Unmanageable thoughts.
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He who feels contempt for any living thing hath faculties that he hath never used, and thought with him is in its infancy.
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A light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove.
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Huge and mighty forms that do not live like living men, moved slowly through the mind by day and were trouble to my dreams.
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On Man, on Nature, and on Human Life, Musing is solitude
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Monastic brotherhood, upon rock Aerial.
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With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars.
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What is good for a bootless bene? With these dark words begins my tale And their meaning is, Whence can comfort spring When prayer is of no avail?
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A great poet ought to a certain degree to rectify men's feelings... to render their feelings more sane, pure and permanent, in short, more consonant to Nature.
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Look at the fate of summer flowers, which blow at daybreak, droop ere even-song.
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