655 quotes
Selfishness is hypocritical by nature, and seizes on the first decent excuse as a cloak
I stood between the meeting Years,
The coming and the past,
And I ask'd of the future one,
Wilt thou be like the last?
I know not which is the most fatal gift,
Genius or Love, for both alike are ruled
By stars of bright aspect and evil influence.
The Vow of the Peacock (1835)
Charles went towards the table, but he had no lady-like powers of filling four sheets with nothing, and the letter was soon sealed.
To know yourself less beloved than you love, is a dreadful feeling
We step not over the threshold of childhood till led by Love
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
Farewell, and when to-morrow
Seems little, like to-day,
And we find life's deepest sorrow
Melts gradual away ;
Yet do not quite forget me.
It was hidden in a wild wood
Of the larch and pine ;
It had been unto his childhood
Solitude and shrine, —
There he dream'd the hours away.
IT is in this we differ; I would seek
To blend my very being into thine—
I'm even jealous of thy memory:
I wish our childhood had been pass'd together.
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)
A woman always exaggerates her beauty and its influence when they are past ; and it was a perpetual grief to think what her pretty face might have done for her.
Oh, nothing has the memory of love!
The Vow of the Peacock (1835)
I am a woman:—tell me not of fame.
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)
But o'er CYRENE'S cheek the rose,
Like moon-touch'd water, ebbs and flows;
And eyes that droop like Summer flowers
Told they could change with shine and showers.
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)
Again he was thrown upon his resources; which have always appeared to me the very worst things on which an unfortunate individual can be thrown in the way of amusement.
But there are natural temples still for those
Eternal though dethroned Deities,
Where from green altars flowers send up their incense:
This fount is one of them. —
The Vow of the Peacock (1835)
Then gaze not on other eyes, Love ;
Breathe not other sighs, Love ;
You may find many a brighter one
Than your own rose, but there are none
So true to thee, Love.
To dream and to create has been my fate,
Alone, apart from life's more busy scheming ;
I fear to think that I may find too late
Vain was the toil, and idle was the dreaming.
I do firmly believe that the Londoner is as contented with his city home as the dweller in the fairest valley among the Appennines ; and that habit brings its usual indifference as to place.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
He sung,—the notes at first were low,
Like the whispers of love, or the breathings of woe:
The waters were hushed, and the winds were stay'd,
As he sang his farewell to his Lesbian maid!
The Improvisatrice (1824)
Her likeness ! why it is a vain endeavour
To image it. Painting or words may never
Say what she was ; yet dwell I on the task,
As if that Poesy had a right to ask
From Memory its treasure.