Quotes About Reflection

A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier times.

Let knowledge grow from more to more,But more of reverence in us dwell;That mind and soul, according well,May make one music as before.

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.

This is the truth the poet sings,That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.

But the tender grace of a day that is deadWill never come back to me.

The days will grow to weeks, the weeks to months,The months will add themselves and make the years,The years will roll into the centuries,And mine will ever be a name of scorn.

All the charm of all the Muses often flowering in a lonely word.

She left the web, she left the loom,She made three paces thro' the room,She saw the water-lily bloom,She saw the helmet and the plume,She look'd down to Camelot.Out flew the web and floated wide;The mirror crack'd from side to side."The curse is come upon me," criedThe Lady of Shalott.

In after-dinner talk,Across the walnuts and the wine.

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,Tears from the depth of some divine despairRise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,In looking on the happy autumn fields,And thinking of the days that are no more.

Here at the quiet limit of the world.

The long mechanic pacings to and fro,The set gray life, and apathetic end.

Her eyes are homes of silent prayers.

I am a part of all I have seen.

Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

We cannot think first and act afterward. From the moment of birth we are immersed in action, and can only fitfully guide it by taking thought.

But you can catch yourself entertaining habitually certain ideas and setting others aside; and that, I think, is where our personal destinies are largely decided.

Order is not sufficient. What is required, is something much more complex. It is order entering upon novelty; so that the massiveness of order does not degenerate into mere repetition; and so that the novelty is always reflected upon a background of system.

It takes an extraordinary intelligence to contemplate the obvious.

A culture is in its finest flower before it begins to analyze itself.

Knowledge shrinks as wisdom grows.

Every philosophy is tinged with the coloring of some secret imaginative background, which never emerges explicitly into its train of reasoning.

Philosophy is the product of wonder.

Religion is what a person does in his solitariness.