Quotes from Robert Montgomery

Home, the spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.

As o'er the stormy sea of human Life We sail, until our anchor'd spirits rest In the far haven of Eternity.

Home, the spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.

How oft,—be witness, Guardian of our days!... The sky besprinkled o'er with rainbow hues, As if angelic wings had wanton'd there;...

A universal beauty clothes the world, And one heart seems to beat for all mankind!

O for a summer noon, when light and breeze Sport on the grass, like ripples o'er a lake Alive with freshness! when the full round Sun, With the Creator's smile upon his face, Walks like a prince of glory through the path Of Heaven!—Thou vast, and ever-glorious sky, Mantling the earth with thy majestic robe...

And Thou, vast Ocean! on whose awful face Time's iron feet can print no ruin-trace, By breezes lull'd, or by the storm-blasts driv'n, Thy majesty uplifts the mind to heaven.

Oh! none are so absorb'd, as not to feel Sweet thoughts like music coming o'er the mind: When prayer, the purest incense of a soul, Hath risen to the throne of heaven, the heart Is mellow'd, and the shadows that becloud Our state of darken'd being, glide away;...

Oh! now to be alone, on some grand height, Where heaven's black curtains shadow all the sight, And watch the swollen clouds their bosom clash, While fleet and far the living lightnings flash... And see the fiery arrows fall and rise, In dizzy chase along the rattling skies,— How stirs the spirit while the echoes roll, And God, in thunder, rocks from pole to pole!

...How sublime Upon a time-blanch'd cliff to muse, and, while The eagle glories in a sea of air, To mingle with the scene around!—Survey The sun-warm heaven...

Oh! weep not that our beauty wears Beneath the wings of Time; That age o'erclouds the brow with cares That once was raised sublime... But mourn the inward wreck we feel As hoary years depart, And Time's effacing fingers steal Young feelings from the heart!

Beneath our feet a fairy pathway flows, The grass still glitters in the summer breeze, The dusky wood, and distant copse appear, And that lone stream, upon whose chequer'd face We mused, when noon-rays made the pebbles gleam, Is mirror'd to the mind: though all around Be rattling hoofs and roaring wheels, the eye Is wand'ring where the heart delights to dwell.

And now, Though haply mellow'd by correcting time, I thank thee, Heaven! that the bereaving world Hath not diminish'd the subliming hopes Of youth, in manhood's more imposing cares...

Where beats a heart within a human breast, There be Thou present, and Thy power adored! And oh! since all are doom'd one common race To run, and one eternal goal to reach, May Thy prime attribute each bosom warm With tender sympathy and truth; may man Be link'd to man in fellowship of soul, Till one vast chain of Love embrace the world!

Are there not hours of an immortal birth,— Bright visitations from a purer sphere, That cannot live in language? Is there not A mood of glory, when the mind attuned To heaven, can out of dreams create her worlds?—

Are you listening or are you just waiting for your turn to talk?

The flood will lift the ghosts from the Hollywood lawn cemetery and they will disappear like ether in the now dead air. All the names will be erased from the billboards and the theatres and the piers and the magazines and the monuments. You live by myths of immortality, and your myths are not safe.

The people you love become ghosts inside of you, and like this you keep them alive.

I want to cry in your arms for a hundred years; I want to wake up in your arms for a hundred years.

If you are lucky enough to be a success, by all means enjoy the applause and the adulation of the public. But never, never believe it.

And Thou, vast Ocean! on whole awful face Time's iron feet can print no ruin trace.

A moment is a mighty thing Beyond the soul's imagination; For in it, though we trace it not, How much there crowds of varied lot How much of life, life cannot see, Darts onward to eternity!

How sublime Upon a time-blanchÂ'd cliff to muse, and, while The eagle glories in a sea of air, To mingle with the scene around! - Survey The sun-warm heaven.

And now, Though haply mellow'd by correcting time, I thank thee, Heaven! that the bereaving world Hath not diminish'd the subliming hopes Of youth, in manhood's more imposing cares.