Over 40,000 Famous Quotes Sorted By Topic and Author

Have you not heard the poets tell How came the dainty Baby Bell Into this world of ours?

What is lovely never dies, But passes into other loveliness, Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.

Gracious to all, to none subservient, Without offense he spoke the word he meant.

Or light or dark, or short or tall, She sets a springe to snare them all: All's one to her--above her fan She'd make sweet eyes at Caliban.

Day is a snow-white Dove of heaven That from the East glad message brings.

But when the sun in all his state, Illumed the eastern skies, She passed through glory's morning gate, And walked in Paradise.

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space, In twilight land, in no man's land, Two hurrying shapes met face to face And bade each other stand. "And who are you?" cried one, a-gape, Shuddering in the glimmering light. "I know not," said the second shape, "I only died last night."

Only the sea intoning, Only the wainscot-mouse, Only the wild wind moaning Over the lonely house.

When to soft Sleep we give ourselves away, And in a dream as in a fairy bark Drift on and on through the enchanted dark To purple daybreak--little thought we pay To that sweet bitter world we know by day.

When the Sultan Shah-Zaman Goes to the city Ispahan, Even before he gets so far As the place where the clustered palm-trees are, At the last of the thirty palace-gates The pet of the harem, Rose-in-Bloom, Orders a feast in his favorite room-- Glittering square of colored ice, Sweetened with syrup, tinctured with spice, Creams, and cordials, and sugared dates, Syrian apples, Othmanee quinces, Limes and citrons and apricots, And wines that are known to Eastern princes.

In her eyes a thought Grew sweeter and sweeter, deepening like the dawn, A mystical forewarning.

The happy bells shall ring Marguerite; The summer birds shall sing Marguerite; You smile but you shall wear Orange blossoms in your hair, Marguerite.

To keep the heart unwrinkled, to be hopeful, kindly, cheerful, reverent-- that is to triumph over old age.

When friends are at your hearthside met, Sweet courtesy has done its most If you have made each guest forget That he himself is not the host.

If my best wines mislike thy taste, And my best service win thy frown, Then tarry not, I bid thee haste; There's many another Inn in town.

I like not lady-slippers, Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms, Not yet the flaky roses, Red or white as snow; I like the chaliced lilies, The heavy Eastern lilies, The gorgeous tiger-lilies, That in our garden grow.

Hebe's here, May is here! The air is fresh and sunny; And the miser-bees are busy Hoarding golden honey.

Night is a stealthy, evil Raven, Wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.

October turned by maple's leaves to gold; The most are gone now; here and there one lingers; Soon these will slip from the twig's weak hold, Like coins between a dying miser's fingers.

No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.