Morning has broken Like the first morning. Blackbird has spoken Like the first bird.— Eleanor Farjeon
The most vibrant Eleanor Farjeon quotes that are glad to read
It always gives me a shiver when I see a cat seeing what I can't see.
The events of childhood do not pass, but repeat themselves like seasons of the year.
I will fight for you, yes, and you will fight for me.
And if you have sacrificed joy and courage and beauty and wisdom for my sake, I will give them all to you again; and yet you must also give them to me, for they are things in which without you I am wanting. But together we can make them.
It seems to me there are no rules, only instances;
but perhaps that is because I learned no rules, and am only an instance myself.
Upon your shattered ruins where, This vine will flourish still, as rare, As fresh, as fragrant as of old. Love will not crumble.
No love-story has ever been told twice.
I never heard any tale of lovers that did not seem to me as new as the world on its first morning.
In Fleet Street, in Fleet Street, the People are so fleet, They barely touch the cobble-stones with their nimble feet!
Of troubles know I none, Of pleasures know I many - I rove beneath the sun, Without a single penny.
Praise with elation Praise every morning Spring's re-creation Of the First Day!
There's Carol like a rolling car, And Martin like a flying bird, And Adam like the Lord's First Word, And Raymond like the Harvest Moon, And Peter like a piper's tune, And Alan like the flowing on Of water. And there's John, like John.
On Hallowe'en the old ghosts come about us, and they speak to some; to others they are dumb.
It's no use crying over spilt evils. It's better to mop them up laughing.
All the ill that is in us comes from fear, and all the good from love.
In love there are no penalties and no payments, and what is given is indistinguishable from what is received.
Cats sleep Anywhere, Any table, Any chair, Top of piano, Window-ledge, In the middle, On the edge.
Dropt tears have hastened your decay, And brought you one step nigher death;
And you have heard, unthrilled, unmoved, The music of Love's golden breath, And seen the light in eyes that loved. You think you hold the core and kernel, Of all the world beneath your crust, Old dial? But when you lie in dust, This vine will bloom, strong, green, and proved. Love is eternal.
He loved her, both for her fault and her redemption of it, more than he had ever thought that he could love her; for he had believed that in their kiss love had reached its uttermost. But love has no uttermost, as the starshave no number and the sea no rest.
Women are so strangely constructed that they have in them darkness as well as light, though it be but a little curtain hung across the sun. And love is the hand that takes the curtain down, a stronger hand than fear, which hung it up. For all the ill that is in us comes from fear, and all the good from love.
He bent his head and kissed her long and deeply, and in that kiss neither knew themselves, or even each other, but something beyond all consciousness that was both of them.
Of what use to destroy the children of evil? It is evil itself we must destroy at the roots.
Old sundial, you stand here for Time: For Love, the vine that round your base, Its tendrils twines, and dares to climb, And lay one flower-capped spray in grace, Without the asking on your cold, Unsmiling and unfrowning face.
We do not lose our friends when they die, we only lose sight of them.