Quotes from Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I sometimes think God must be a woman--He is expected to forgive so much.

A prayer without a deed is an arrow without a bowstring; A deed without a prayer is a bowstring without an arrow. The heart of a man should be like a quiver full of arrows, And the hand of a man should be like a strong bow strung for action. The heart of a man should keep his arrows ever ascending, And the hand and the mind of a man should keep at a work unending.

There is no chance, no destiny, no fate, Can circumvent or hinder or control The firm resolve of a determined soul.

To be able to enjoy heaven, one must learn first to enjoy earth.

It is enjoyed by millions of souls to-day—this great prize of life. I for one declare that for every day of misery in my existence I have had a week of joy and happiness. For every hour of pain, I have had a day of pleasure. For every moment of worry, an hour of content.

I would kneel by the bank, in the grasses dank, And drink you, drink you, drink you. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox, from "If," Picked Poems . (Chicago: W. B. Conkey Company, 1912)

And yet I would not be a child again. For surely as the night succeeds the day, So surely will their mirth turn into tears. And I would not return to happy hours, If I must live again these weary years. I would walk on, and leave it all behind: will walk on; and when my feet grow sore, The boatman waits—his sails are all unfurled— He waits to row me to a fairer shore.

Who but a God Could draw from light and moisture, heat and cold, And fashion in earth's mould, A multitude of blooms to deck one sod?

When we tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new. This restless craving in the souls of men spurs them to climb, and to seek the mountain view.

THE LIFE WORTH WHILE Like one blindfolded groping out his way, I will not try to touch beyond to-day. Since all the future is concealed from sight, I need but strive to make the next step right.

There is no chance, no destiny, no fate, that can hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.

Earth is the anteroom of Heaven, if we choose to see it so.

When we tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new. This restless craving in the souls of men spurs them to climb, and to seek the mountain view.

Time is the best avenger.

Who climbs the mountain does not always climb.The winding road slants downward many a time;Yet each descent is higher than the last.

Time loves a new lay; and the dirge he is playing Will change for you soon to a livelier strain.

And the smile that is worth the praises of earth is the smile that shines through tears.

No fate could rob us of our own-- No circumstance can make it less; What time removes was but a loan, For what was ours we still possess.

Time sped. And the poet through sorrow Became like his suffering kind. Again he toiled over his poems To lighten the grief of his mind.

It is time that outraged public sentiment cry out in detestation of the outrages committed in the name of religion.

I Love your lips when they're wet with wine and red with wicked desire.

The days grow shorter, the nights grow longer, The headstones thicken along the way; And life grows sadder, but love grows stronger For those who walk with us day by day.

Love is a spy who is plotting treason, In league with that warm, red rebel, the Heart.

It stands in the light transfigured, It speaks from the heights above, "Each Soul Is Its Own Redeemer; There Is No Law But Love."