Eleanor Farjeon Quotes

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

He could not be captured, He could not be bought, His running was rhythm, His standing was thought; With one eye on sorrow And one eye on mirth, He galloped in heaven And gambolled on earth.<p> And only the poet With wings to his brain Can mount him and ride him Without any rein, The stallion of heaven, The steed of the skies, The horse of the singer Who sings as he flies.

'In love there are no penalties and no payments, and what is given is indistinguishable from what is received.' And 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.

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

Romance gathers round an old story like lichen on an old branch. And the story of Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard is so old now — some say a year old, some say even two. How can the children be expected to remember?

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

Of troubles know I none, Of pleasures know I many — I rove beneath the sun Without a single penny.

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?

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.

From the blood of Medusa Pegasus sprang. His hoof of heaven Like melody rang.

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 what use to destroy the children of evil? It is evil itself we must destroy at the roots.

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!

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.