Zitat des Tages von Robert Browning:
No, when the fight begins within himself, A man's worth something.
Measure your mind's height by the shade it casts.
Take away love and our earth is a tomb.
I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time.
You should not take a fellow eight years old and make him swear to never kiss the girls.
A face to lose youth for, to occupy age With the dream of, meet death with.
So, fall asleep love, loved by me... for I know love, I am loved by thee.
Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.
But how carve way i' the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past?
White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so: life's business being just the terrible choice.
Oh, the little more, and how much it is! And the little less, and what worlds away.
What's a man's age? He must hurry more, that's all; Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold.
I give the fight up: let there be an end, a privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.
Love is energy of life.
Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds?
God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.
Tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what man Would do!
One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake.
What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?
Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?
Why comes temptation but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph?
Ambition is not what man does... but what man would do.
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land, Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
Grow old with me! The best is yet to be.
Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.
But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, to dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, and baffled, get up and begin again.
Better have failed in the high aim, as I, Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed As, God be thanked! I do not.
God is the perfect poet.
Never the time and the place and the loved one all together!
My sun sets to rise again.
Ignorance is not innocence but sin.
Perhaps one has to be very old before one learns to be amused rather than shocked.
What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew.
Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beast's; God is, they are, Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be.
It is the glory and good of Art, That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truth, to mouths like mine at least.
A minute's success pays the failure of years.