I saw the tracks of angels in the earth: the beauty of heaven walking by itself on the world.
PETRARCHRarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together.
More Petrarch Quotes
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It may be only glory that we seek here, but I persuade myself that, as long as we remain here, that is right. Another glory awaits us in heaven and he who reaches there will not wish even to think of earthly fame.
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Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together.
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When the poet died his cat was put to death and mummified.
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Books can warm the heart with friendly words and counsel, entering into a close relationship with us which is articulate and alive.
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An equal doom clipp’d Time’s blest wings of peace.
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I desire that death find me ready and writing, or if it please Christ, praying and intears.
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Reality is always the foe of famous names.
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Virtue is health, vice is sickness.
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I rejoiced in my progress, mourned my weaknesses, and commiserated the universal instability of human conduct.
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How quick the old woe follows a little bliss!
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To be able to say how much love, is love but little.
PETRARCH -
I freeze and burn, love is bitter and sweet, my sighs are tempests and my tears are floods, I am in ecstasy and agony, I am possessed by memories of her and I am in exile from myself.
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Suspicion is the cancer of friendship.
PETRARCH -
It is more honorable to be raised to a throne than to be born to one. Fortune bestows the one, merit obtains the other.
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Hope is incredible to the slave of grief.
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Events appear sad, pleasant, or painful, not because they are so in reality, but because we believe them to be so and the light in which we look at them depends upon our own judgment.
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Continued work and application form my soul’s nourishment. So soon as I commenced to rest and relax I should cease to live.
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Wanting is not enough, long and you attain it.
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My flowery and green age was passing away, and I feeling a chill in the fires had been wasting my heart, for I was drawing near the hillside above the grave.
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He loves but lightly who his love can tell.
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Death is a sleep that ends our dreaming. Oh, that we may be allowed to wake before death wakes us.
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Where you are is of no moment, but only what you are doing there. It is not the place that ennobles you, but you the place, and this only by doing that which is great and noble.
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And I live on, but in grief and self-contempt, Left here without the light I loved so much, In a great tempest and with shrouds unkempt.
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A short cut to riches is to subtract from our desires.
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Who over-refines his argument brings himself to grief.
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For style beyond the genius never dares.
PETRARCH