53 quotes
And here they met:—where should Love's meeting be —
Love passionate, and spiritual, and deep—
Where, but in such a haunted solitude—
A green and natural temple—fitting shrine
For vows the stars remember ?
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
It is a humbling thing to human pride to observe that strength of mind does not preserve its possessor from indulging any favourite delusion; but that this very strength gives its own force to the belief.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
{of Theatres} There, while weeping for sorrows which are not, laughing at the light jest or the ludicrous misadventure, how little is remembered of the want which makes fear the only bond that binds the living to life !
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
It is the mistake of a coxcomb, whose experience of affection is all to come—if it ever comes—to say that women are won by mere good looks. Though it does not owe its birth to them. Gratitude and Vanity are the nurses that rock the cradle of Love.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
Who does not know the restlessness of an anticipated arrival ?
Experiments; or The Lover from Ennui
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
Another soft and scented page,
Fill'd with more honied words !
What motives to a pilgrimage
A shrine like mine affords !
I know, before I break the seal,
The words that I shall find:—
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
Born with them—born with them : all alike ! No pleasure equal to the pleasure of tormenting, to a woman.
Theresa
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
The peasant boy, who followed the coloured track of the rainbow, hoping to find the blue and charmed flower which springs where the arch touches earth, is wiser far than one who gives youth, genius, and time to literature.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
What is the reason that we find it so satisfactory to make excuses to ourselves—the only persons in the world to whom they must be altogether needless ?
An Evening at Lucy Ashton's
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
... ; but conscience, like a child, is soon lulled to sleep ; and habit is our idea of eternity.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
[From Lee, a dramatist]: Ah! the poet hath no true hope, who doth not place it in the many, and in the feeling of the common multitude.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
Great Heaven ! what vain beliefs
Have stirred the pulse and led the hopes of man !
As if that honour could be bought by blood,
And that the fierce right hand was better worth
Than the fine mind, and high and generous heart !—
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
Unveil'd, unmask'd ! not so, not so !
Ah ! thine are closer worn
Than those which, in light mockery,
One evening thou hast borne.
The mask and veil which thou dost wear
Are of thyself a part;
No mask can ever hide thy face
As that conceals thy heart.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)