Quotes About Wonder

I work to drive the awe away, yet awe impels the work.

Have you got a brook in your little heart, Where bashful flowers blow, And blushing birds go down to drink, And shadows tremble so?

Whose fingers string the stalactite- Who counts the Wampum of the night

In lands I never saw, they say, Immortal Alps look down, Whose bonnets touch the firmament, Whose sandals touch the town, ? Meek at whose everlasting feet A myriad daisies play. Which, sir, are you, and which am I. Upon an August day?

Split the Lark—and you'll find the Music, Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled.

A little road not made of man, Enabled of the eye, Accessible to thill of bee, Or cart of butterfly. If town it have, beyond itself, 'T is that I cannot say; I only sigh,—no vehicle Bears me along that way.

Solo busco una vida que dejé, ¿sigue ahí todavía?»

Chi conta le conchiglie nella notte per vedere che non ne manchi nessuna?

SUMMER SHOWER. A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook, That went to help the sea. Myself conjectured, Were they pearls, What necklaces could be! The dust replaced in hoisted roads, The birds jocoser sung; The sunshine threw his hat away, The orchards spangles hung. The breezes brought dejected lutes, And bathed them in the glee; The East put out a single flag, And signed the fete away.

Counts his nectars — enters, And is lost in balms!

Hace unos cuantos días perdí un mundo, ¿no lo ha encontrado nadie? Lo reconoceréis por una sarta de estrellas que le ciñen la cabeza.

I don't know which it is - I only know that when you shall come back again, the Earth will seem more beautiful, and bigger than it does now, and the blue sky from the window will be all dotted with gold - though it may not be evening, or time for the stars to come.

Non è necessario essere una stanza o una casa per essere stregata. Il cervello ha corridoi che vanno oltre gli spazi materiali.

When bumble-bees in solemn flight

Split the lark and you'll find the music

The meteor of birds

Somebody flings a mattress out, — The children hurry by; They wonder if It died on that

Solo busco una vida que dejé, ¿sigue ahí todavía?

Will there really be a Morning? Is there such a thing as Day? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they? Has it feet like Water lilies? Has it feathers like a Bird? Is it brought from famous countries Of which I have never heard? Oh some Scholar! Oh some Sailor! Oh some Wise Men from the skies! Please to tell a little Pilgrim Where the place called Morning lies!

Some things that fly there be, — Birds, hours, the bumble-bee:

First of all, it's impossible not to compare. When you go down a fork in a road, it's impossible not to think about that other path. Wonder what your life could have been like…

It's all real in Outside, everything there is, because I saw an airplane in the blue between the clouds. Ma and me can't go there because we don't know the secret code, but it's real all the same. Before I didn't know to be mad that we can't open Door, my head was too small to have Outside in it.

Your body - every body is a marvel. A wonder of creation. [...] The day your first opened your eyes, Anna, God asked just one thing: that you live.

All I think when I look at you is hallelujah