John Boyle O'Reilly Quotes
d. 1890 Ireland
John Boyle O'Reilly (28 June 1844 – 10 August 1890) was an Irish-born poet and novelist.
Also known as: John Boyle O’Reilly, O'Reilly, John Boyle
Random John Boyle O'Reilly quote
17 quotes
The organized charity, scrimped and iced, In the name of a cautious, statistical Christ.
Be silent and safe—silence never betrays you.
Take gifts with a sigh: most men give to be paid.
I'd rather live in Bohemia than in any other land.
Who heeds not experience, trust him not.
But the gods are dead—
Ay, Zeus is dead, and all the gods but Doubt,
And doubt is brother devil to Despair!
They who see the Flying Dutchman never, never reach the shore.
I fear my upas roots have led me out of bounds.
The world is large when its weary leagues two loving hearts divide;
But the world is small when your enemy is loose on the other side.
For peace do not hope; to be just you must break it.
Still work for the minute and not for the year.
For all time to come, the freedom and purity of the press are the test of national virtue and independence. No writer for the press, however humble, is free from the burden of keeping his purpose high and his integrity white.
The world is large when weary leagues two loving hearts divide
But the world is small when your enemy is loose on the other side.
Doubt is brother-devil to Despair.
What man would be wise, let him drink of the river
That bears on his bosom the record of time;
A message to him every wave can deliver
To teach him to creep till he knows how to climb.
The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips,
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.
You gave me the key of your heart, my love;
Then why did you make me knock?
Oh that was yesterday, saints above!
And last night—I changed the lock!
I am weary of planning and toiling
In the crowded hives of men;
Heart weary of building and spoiling
And spoiling and building again;
And I long for the dear old river
Where I dreamed my youth away;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a toiler dies in a day.