Elizabeth Barrett Browning Quotes

Yes, I answered you last night;
No, this morning, sir, I say:
Colors seen by candle-light
Will not look the same by day.

And truly, I reiterate, . . nothing's small! No lily-muffled hum of a summer-bee, But finds some coupling with the spinning stars; No pebble at your foot, but proves a sphere; No chaffinch, but implies the cherubim: And, — glancing on my own thin, veined wrist, — In such a little tremour of the blood The whole strong clamour of a vehement soul Doth utter itself distinct. Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God: But only he who sees, takes off his shoes, The rest sit round it, and pluck blackberries, And daub their natural faces unaware
More and more, from the first similitude.

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.

As the green summer comes on you must be the better surely; if you can bear to lie out under the trees, the general health will rally and the local injury correct itself.

Witch, scholar, poet, dreamer, and the rest...

And then people ask me what I mean in [words torn out]. I hope you were among the six who understood or half understood my ‘Poet’s Vow’ — that is, if you read it at all. Uncle Hedley made a long pause at the first part. But I have been reading, too, Sheridan Knowles’s play of the ‘Wreckers.’ It is full of passion and pathos, and made me shed a great many tears.

A mirror may be held in different lights by different hands; and, according to the position of those hands, will the light fall.

And trade is art, and art's philosophy,
In Paris.

I think of thee!-my thoughts do twine and bud
About thee, as wild vines, about a tree...
Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood
I will not have my thoughts instead of thee
Who art dearer, better!

But so fair,
She takes the breath of men away
Who gaze upon her unaware.

The great chasm between the thing I say, & the thing I would say, wd be quite dispiriting to me, in spite even of such kindnesses as yours, if the desire did not master the despondency.

And yet, because I love thee, I obtain
From that same love this vindicating grace,
To live on still in love, and yet in vain

I begin to think that none are so bold as the timid, when they are fairly roused.

Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor, Most gracious singer of high poems! where The dancers will break footing, from the care Of watching up thy pregnant lips for more.

I cannot speak In happy tones; the tear drops on my cheek Show I am sad;
But I can speak Of grace to suffer with submission meek,
Until made glad.
I cannot feel
That all is well, when dark'ning clouds conceal
The shining sun;
But then I know
God lives and loves; and say, since it is so, "Thy will be done."