In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTHHow many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
More William Wordsworth Quotes
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Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretch’d in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
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And I am happy when I sing.
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A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light.
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Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
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And suddenly all your troubles melt away, all your worries are gone, and it is for no reason other than the look in your partner’s eyes. Yes, sometimes life and love really is that simple.
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Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher.
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But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine.
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Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.
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Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.
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He spake of love, such love as spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure; No fears to beat away, no strife to heal,- The past unsighed for, and the future sure.
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My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
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Mathematics is an independent world created out of pure intelligence.
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Faith is a passionate intuition.
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH -
A tale in everything.
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Rest and be thankful.
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Great men have been among us; hands that penn’d and tongues that utter’d wisdom.
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Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from.
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As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
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Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
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We live by admiration, hope and love.
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Come grow old with me. The best is yet to be.
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The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet’s dream.
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The softest breeze to fairest flowers gives birth: Think not that Prudence dwells in dark abodes, She scans the future with the eye of gods.
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Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
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And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH