Alfred, Lord Tennyson Quotes
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It's better to have tried and failed than to live life wondering what would've happened if I had tried
More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
We are all a part of every person we have ever met.
I can't sleep without knowing there's hope. Half the night I waste in sighs. In a wakeful doze I sorrow. For the hands, for the lips... the eyes. For the meeting of tomorrow.
Hope Smiles from the threshold of the year to come, Whispering 'it will be happier'.
The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.
...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.
Ours is not to wonder why. Ours is just to do or die.
if you don't concentrate on what you are doing then the thing that you are doing is not what you are thinking.
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.
In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
Rain, rain, and sun! A rainbow in the sky!
Nor is it wiser to weep a true occasion lost, but trim our sails, and let old bygones be.
And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.
But for the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies; The sad mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics numbing pain.
It is the little rift within the lute That by and by will make the music mute, And ever widening slowly silence all.
That man's the best cosmopolite Who loves his native country best.
So sad, so fresh the days that are no more.
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
As she fled fast through sun and shade The happy winds upon her play'd, Blowing the ringlet from the braid.
Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver.
I loved you, and my love had no return, And therefore my true love has been my death.
Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control; these three alone lead one to sovereign power.
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
All experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untravelled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move.
A lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies.
Speak to Him, thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet- Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.
So many worlds, so much to do, so little done, such things to be.
Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.
My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure.
All experience is an arch wherethro' gleams that untraveled world whose margins fade forever and forever as we move.
Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.
Battering the gates of heaven with the storms of prayer.
O Blackbird! sing me something well: While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground, Where thou may'st warble, eat and dwell.
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
Silence, beautiful voice.
Tis held that sorrow makes us wise.
Here at the quiet limit of the world.
Trust me not at all, or all in all.
Love is the only gold.
What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul.
I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.
Her eyes are homes of silent prayers.
Theirs is not to make reply: Theirs is not to reason why: Theirs is but to do and die.
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.
The greater man the greater courtesy.
For always roaming with a hungry heart.
I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul
Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.