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When the fretful stir
Unprofitable, and the fever of the world
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart.

— William Wordsworth

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Society

More quotes by William Wordsworth

Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade
Of that which once was great, is passed away.

The light that never was, on sea or land,
The consecration, and the poet's dream.

Minds that have nothing to confer
Find little to perceive.

Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,
Through words and things, a dim and perilous way.

Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed (1919)

All men feel something of an honorable bigotry for the objects which have long continued to please them.

Lyrical Ballads (1798)

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All the world's a stage,
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One country, one constitution, one destiny.

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Carl Sagan Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space (1994)

Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: William Wordsworth (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.