Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.
Speak to Him, thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet- Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.
Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever.
Nothing in Nature is unbeautiful.
Her eyes are homes of silent prayers.
Attain the unattainable.
The quiet sense of something lost
He that wrongs his friend, wrongs himself more.
God made thee good as thou art beautiful.
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
If I make dark my countenance, I shut my life from happier chance.
Love is the only gold.
Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
I must lose myself in action, lest I wither in despair.
Life is not as idle ore, But iron dug from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears, And dipt in baths of hissing tears, And batter'd with the shocks of doom, To shape and use.
God gives us love! Something to love He lends us; but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone: This is the curse of time.
The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.
O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
My doom is, I love thee still. Let no man dream but that I love thee still.
I loved you, and my love had no return, And therefore my true love has been my death.
Shape your heart to front the hour, but dream not that the hours will last.
Oh for someone with a heart, head and hand. Whatever they call them, what do I care, aristocrat, democrat, autocrat, just be it one that can rule and dare not lie.
Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip-depths; Love laps his wings on either side the heart Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts, So that they pass not to the shrine of sound.
In time there is no present, In eternity no future, In eternity no past.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: