 |
Success is a great deodorant. -Elizabeth Taylor |
 |
|
 |
|
 |
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In...
The darkest pit
Of the profoundest hell, chaos, night,
Nor aught of blinder vacancy scooped out
By help of...
Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge; it is the impassioned expression which is in the countenance...
With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of...
The thought of our past years in me doth breed
Perpetual benedictions.
Source:...
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
Shades of the prison-house begin to close
Upon the growing...
Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.
Source: In The Golfer's Book...
Every great and original writer, in proportion as he is great and original, must himself create the taste by which he...
I am already kindly disposed towards you. My friendship it is not in my power to give: this is a gift which no man can...
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring...
More pellucid streams,
An ampler ether, a diviner air,
And fields invested with purpureal...
The mightiest lever known to the moral world, Imagination.
Source: In Webster's...
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in...
Hearing often-times
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten...
The holy time is quiet as a nun
Breathless with adoration.
Source: Miscellaneous...
For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes
The...
The gods approve
The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.
Source: Laodamia,...
The first cuckoo's melancholy cry.
Source: Miscellaneous Sonnets, I. 14, `To...
Neither evil tongues, rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all the...
Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned,
Mindless of its just honours; with this key
Shakespeare unlocked...