Thee Quotes
Pain was not given thee merely to be miserable under; learn from it, turn it to account.
I love thee - I love thee, 'Tis all that I can say, It is my vision in the night, My dreaming in the day.
Father of rosy day, No more thy clouds of incense rise; But waking flow'rs, At morning hours, Give out their sweets to meet thee in the skies.
For as well as I have loved thee heretofore, mine heart will not serve now to see thee; for through thee and me is the flower of kings and knights destroyed.
Teach him to live unto God and unto thee; and he will discover that women, like the plants in woods, derive their softness and tenderness from the shade.
Good even, good fair moon, good even to thee. I prithee, dear moon, now show to me the form and the features, the speech and degree, of the man that true lover of mine shall be.
I have no name: I am but two days old. What shall I call thee? I happy am, Joy is my name. Sweet joy befall thee!
England with all thy faults, I love thee still-- My country! and, while yet a nook is left Where English minds and manners may be found, Shall be constrained to love thee.
How shall I speak thee, or thy power address Thou God of our idolatry, the Press. . . . . Like Eden's dead probationary tree, Knowledge of good and evil is from thee.
Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor; And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away.
Slayer of the winter, art thou here again? O welcome, thou that bring'st the summer nigh! The bitter wind makes not the victory vain. Nor will we mock thee for thy faint blue sky.
And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And asleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me must be heard of, say, I taught thee.
I am misanthropos, and hate mankind, For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, That I might love thee something.
Get thee glass eyes, and like a scurvy politician, seem to see the things thou dost not.
If thou remeber'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not lov'd
Suffer love; a good epithet! I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.
Fight valiantly to-day; and yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it, for thou art framed of the firm truth of valor.
My love is thine to teach; teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn. Any hard lesson that may do thee good.
What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee
I pray thee cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless as water in a sieve.
Beware of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in, bear t that th' opposed may beware of thee.
For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
Nay, do not think I flatter. For what advancement may I hope from thee, That no revenue hast but thy good spirits To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flattered?
Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touched; For death-like dragons here affright thee hard.
Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee! . . . . . . Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: So didst thou travel on life's common way In cheerful godliness.
For what we are about to receive, Oh Lord 'tis Thee we thank,' said the cannibal as he cut a slice off the missionary's shank.
If I had but an hour of love,if that be all that is given me,an hour of love upon this earth,I would give my love to thee.
Mozart, prodigal heaven gave thee everything, grace and strength, abundance and moderation, perfect equilibrium.
Let me love Thee so that the honour, riches, and pleasures of the world may seem unworthy even of hatred - may not even be encumbrances.
Teach me, O lark! with thee to greatly rise, to exalt my soul and lift it to the skies.
Go, lovely rose, Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be.
All things do go a-courting, In earth, or sea, or air, God hath made nothing single But thee in His world so fair.
When stars are in the quiet skies, Then most I pine for thee; Bend on me, then, thy tender eyes, As stars look on the sea.
For the joy of ear and eye, for the heart and mind's delight, for the mystic harmony, linking sense to sound and sight; Lord of all, to thee we raise this our hymn of grateful praise.
