Quotes from Robert Browning

That we devote ourselves to God, is seen In living just as though no God there were.

One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake.

All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist.

If you join two lives, there is oft a scar. They are one and one, with a shadowy third; One near one is too far.

What so wild as words are?

If you get simple beauty and nought else, You get about the best thing God invents.

So free we seem, so fettered fast we are!

Why comes temptation but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph?

God is the perfect poet, Who in his person acts his own creations.

Truth never hurts the teller.

All we have gained then by our unbelief Is a life of doubt diversified by faith, For one of faith diversified by doubt: We called the chess-board white -- we call it black.

What a thing friendship is, world without end!

Lofty designs must close in like effects.

It is the glory and good of Art, That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truths, to mouths like mine at least.

The only fault's with time; All men become good creatures: but so slow!

That's all we may expect of man, this side. The grave: his good is—knowing he is bad.

Out of the wreck I rise.

Just when we are safest, there's a sunset touch,A fancy from a flower bell, someone's death,A chorus ending from Euripides.

Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things.The honest thief, the tender murderer,The superstitious atheist, demirepThat loves and saves her soul in new French books.

Irks care the crop-full bird? Frets doubt the maw-crammed beast?

To do good thing in the world, first you must know who you are and what gives meaning to your life.

The instant made eternity—And heaven just prove that I and sheRide, ride together, forever ride?

Through such souls aloneGod stooping shows sufficient of His lightFor us i' the dark to rise by. And I rise.

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.