Eleanor Farjeon Quotes

King's Cross! What shall we do? His Purple Robe Is rent in two!

Love has no uttermost, as the stars have no number and the sea no rest.

Praise with elation, Praise every morning, God's re-creation Of the new day!

In Fleet Street, in Fleet Street, the People are so fleet They barely touch the cobble-stones with their nimble feet!

The little White Chapel Is ringing its bell With a ring-a-ding-dong, All day long

I want to be good...I try to be good, I do try, and to like everybody. But there are some people - some people I can't like, however much I try. I hate them - there!

Once she kissed me with a jest, Once with a tear — O where's the heart was in my breast, And the ring was in my ear?

His tail was a fountain. His nostrils were caves. His mane and his forelock Were musical waves. He neighed like a trumpet. He cooed like a dove. He was stronger than terror And swifter than love.

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.

Water, Loo! water, Loo! fetch me some water! There isn't a drop for a mile and a quarter! The ground is so hard and the ground is so dry I'm frightened my little red rose-bush will die.

And some young country miss
Giving her lad a kiss,
Quite certain that the olden times were not so good as this.

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 stars have no number and the sea no rest.

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.

My harp and I a-wandering Went over Snowdon Mountain, From Anglesey to Swansea Bay It sang like any fountain.

It always gives me a shiver when I see a cat seeing what I can't see.