I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.— Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The most remarkable Elizabeth Barrett Browning quotes that are guaranted to improve your brain
You were made perfectly to be loved - and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.
Light tomorrow with today!
Silence is the best response to a fool.
Light tomorrow with today!
I love you for the part of me that you bring out.
The charm, one might say the genius, of memory is that it is choosy, chancy and temperamental; it rejects the edifying cathedral and indelibly photographs the small boy outside, chewing a hunk of melon in the dust.
Two human loves make one divine.
Love doesn't make the world go round; love is what makes the ride worthwhile.
Women know the way to rear up children (to be just).
They know a simple, merry, tender knack of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, and stringing pretty words that make no sense. And kissing full sense into empty words.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
Eyes of gentianellas azure, Staring, winking at the skies.
With stammering lips and insufficient sound I strive and struggle to deliver right the music of my nature.
Think, in mounting higher, the angels would press on us, and aspire to drop some golden orb of perfect song into our deep, dear silence.
She has seen the mystery hid Under Egypt's pyramid: By those eyelids pale and close Now she knows what Rhamses knows.
No man can be called friendless who has God and the companionship of good books.
His ears were often the first thing to catch my tears.
He's just, your cousin, ay, abhorrently, He'd wash his hands in blood, to keep them clean.
There are nettles everywhere, but smooth, green grasses are more common still;
the blue of heaven is larger than the cloud.
Whoever lives true life, will love true love.
The devil's most devilish when respectable.
Books succeed, and lives fail.
Nosegays! leave them for the waking, Throw them earthward where they grew Dim are such, beside the breaking Amaranths he looks unto. Folded eyes see brighter colors than the open ever do.
Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive, half wishing they were dead to save the shame. The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow; They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats, and flare up bodily, wings and all. What then? Who's sorry for a gnat or girl?
He who breathes deepest lives most.
I would not be a rose upon the wall A queen might stop at, near the palace-door, To say to a courtier, "Pluck that rose for me, It's prettier than the rest." O Romney Leigh! I'd rather far be trodden by his foot, Than lie in a great queen's bosom.
It was not the apple on the tree but the pair on the ground that caused the trouble in the garden of Eden.
A good neighbor sometimes cuts your morning up to mince-meat of the very smallest talk, then helps to sugar her bohea at night with your reputation.
If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love's sake only.
What is genius but the power of expressing a new individuality?
And if God choose I shall but love thee better after death.
What monster have we here? A great Deed at this hour of day? A great just deed -- and not for pay? Absurd -- or insincere?
God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.
truth outlives pain, as the soul does life.
I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints,-I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!-and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame.
The essence of all beauty, I call love, The attribute, the evidence, and end, The consummation to the inward sense Of beauty apprehended from without, I still call love.
Wall must get the weather stain Before they grow the ivy.
As the moths around a taper, As the bees around a rose, As the gnats around a vapour, So the spirits group and close Round about a holy childhood, as if drinking its repose.
The music soars within the little lark, And the lark soars.
Many a crown Covers bald foreheads.
Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers?
World's use is cold, world's love is vain, world's cruelty is bitter bane;
but is not the fruit of pain.
Who so loves believes the impossible.
Some people always sigh in thanking God.
And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.
That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow But thinking of a wreath, .
. . I like such ivy; bold to leap a height 'Twas strong to climb! as good to grow on graves As twist about a thyrsus; pretty too (And that's not ill) when twisted round a comb.
Gaze up at the stars knowing that I see the same sky and wish the same sweet dreams.
There's nothing great Nor small, has said a poet of our day, Whose voice will ring beyond the curfew of eve And not be thrown out by the matin's bell.
I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless.
He lives most life whoever breathes most air.
And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.