Opportunity is rare, and a wise man will never let it go by him.
BAYARD TAYLORBy wisdom wealth is won; but riches purchased wisdom yet for none.
More Bayard Taylor Quotes
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The loving are the daring.
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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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Women are not apt to be won by the charms of verse.
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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.
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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 hollows are heavy and dank With the steam of the Goldenrods.
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The most annoying of all blockheads is a well-read fool.
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Love is better than Fame.
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By wisdom wealth is won; but riches purchased wisdom yet for none.
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The glories of the possible are ours.
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Love’s humility is love’s true pride.
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I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die.
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An enthusiastic desire of visiting the Old World haunted me from early childhood. I cherished a presentiment, amounting almost to belief, that I should one day behold the scenes, among which my fancy had so long wandered.
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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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In the glory which overhangs Palestine afar off, we imagine emotions which never come, when we tread the soil and walk over the hallowed sites.
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Pens carry further than rifled cannon.
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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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The maxims tell you to aim at perfection, which is well; but it’s unattainable, all the same.
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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.
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The lamp you lighted in the olden time Will show you my heart’s-blood beating through the rhyme: A poet’s journal, writ in fire and tears… Then slow deliverance, with the gaps of years.
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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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Fame is what you have taken, / Character’s what you give; / When to this truth you waken, / Then you begin to live.
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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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To learn by observation is traveling, people must also bring knowledge with them.
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Labor, you know, is prayer.
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