Quotes from Robert Browning

Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!

In heaven I yearn for knowledge, account all else inanity; On earth I confess an itch for the praise of fools - that's vanity.

That far land we dream about,Where every man is his own architect.

And then how I shall lie through centuries,And hear the blessed mutter of the mass,And see God made and eaten all day long,And feel the steady candle flame, and tasteGood strong thick stupefying incense smoke!

A man in armor is his armor's slave.

A face to lose youth for, to occupy age With the dream of, meet death with.

God made all the creatures and gave them our love and our fear, To give sign, we and they are His children, one family here.

Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.

The C Major of this life.

Let's contend no more, Love,Strive nor weep:All be as before, Love,—Only sleep!

The curious crime, the fineFelicity and flower of wickedness.

Like dogs in a wheel, birds in a cage, or squirrels in a chain, ambitious men still climb and climb, with great labor, and incessant anxiety, but never reach the top.

We find great things are made of little things,And little things go lessening till at lastComes God behind them.

But little do or can the best of us:That little is achieved through Liberty.

The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard,The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky,Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard.

Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds?

Rafael made a century of sonnets.

Oh, to be in England now that April's there,And whoever wakes in England sees, some morning, unaware,That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheafRound the elm tree bole are in tiny leaf,While the chaffinch sings on the orchard boughIn England—now!

It was roses, roses all the way.

Marching along, fifty-score strong,Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.

She hadA heart—how shall I say?—too soon made glad.

Ambition is not what man does... but what man would do.

Grow old along with me The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made Our times are in his hand who saith, A whole I planned, Youth shows but half trust God See all, nor be afraid

Motherhood All love begins and ends there.