Above Coblentz almost every mountain has a ruin and a legend. One feels everywhere the spirit of the past, and its stirring recollections come back upon the mind with irresistible force.
BAYARD TAYLORLife lives only in success.
More Bayard Taylor Quotes
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So far as female beauty is concerned, the Circassian women have no superiors. They have preserved in their mountain home the purity of the Grecian models, and still display the perfect physical loveliness, whose type has descended to us in the Venus de Medici.
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Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few, And soon the grassy coverlet of God Spreads equal green above their ashes pale.
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Opportunity is rare, and a wise man will never let it go by him.
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The maxims tell you to aim at perfection, which is well; but it’s unattainable, all the same.
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Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.
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The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.
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Higher than the perfect song For which love longeth, Is the tender fear of wrong, That never wrongeth.
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To Truth’s house there is a single door, which is experience.
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The glories of the possible are ours.
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The nearest approach I have ever seen to the symmetry of ancient sculpture was among the Arab tribes of Ethiopia. Our Saxon race can supply the athlete, but not the Apollo.
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There may come a day Which crowns Desire with gift, and Art with truth, And Love with bliss, and Life with wiser youth!
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But who will watch my lilies, When their blossoms open white? By day the sun shall be sentry, And the moon and the stars by night!
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Those who would attain to any marked degree of excellence in a chosen pursuit must work, and work hard for it, prince or peasant.
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As I toiled up the Mount of Olives, in the very footsteps of Christ, panting with the heat and the difficult ascent, I found it utterly impossible to conceive that the Deity, in human form, had walked there before me.
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We follow and race In shifting chase, Over the boundless ocean-space! Who hath beheld when the race begun? Who shall behold it run?
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Pansies in soft April rains Fill their stalks with honeyed sap Drawn from Earth’s prolific lap.
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He teaches best, Who feels the hearts of all men in his breast, And knows their strength or weakness through his own.
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Could one live on the sense of beauty alone, exempt from the necessity of ‘creature comforts,’ a sea-voyage would be delightful.
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Alone each heart must cover up its dead; Alone, through bitter toil, achieve its rest.
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The most annoying of all blockheads is a well-read fool.
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The stream from Wisdom’s well, Which God supplies, is inexhaustible.
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Peace the offspring is of Power.
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Sometimes an hour of Fate’s serenest weather Strikes through our changeful sky its coming beams; Somewhere above us, in elusive ether, Waits the fulfilment of our dearest dreams.
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By wisdom wealth is won; but riches purchased wisdom yet for none.
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With rushing winds and gloomy skies The dark and stubborn Winter dies: Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries, Bidding her earliest child arise; March!
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The healing of the world is in its nameless saints. Each separate star seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars break up the night and make it beautiful.
BAYARD TAYLOR