True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Till heart with heart in concord beats, and the lover is beloved.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTHDust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Like harmony in music; there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society.
More William Wordsworth Quotes
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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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How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.
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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.
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What we have loved Others will love And we will teach them how.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.
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And I am happy when I sing.
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Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence.
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Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
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We have within ourselves Enough to fill the present day with joy, And overspread the future years with hope.
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Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
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By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
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Chains tie us down by land and sea; And wishes, vain as mine, may be All that is left to comfort thee.
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Mathematics is an independent world created out of pure intelligence.
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Great men have been among us; hands that penn’d and tongues that utter’d wisdom.
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Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Like harmony in music; there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society.
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My heart leaps up when I behold
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From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
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That inward eye/ Which is the bliss of solitude.
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The memory of the just survives in Heaven.
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There is creation in the eye.
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One with more of soul in his face than words on his tongue.
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Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.
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Imagination is the means of deep insight and sympathy, the power to conceive and express images removed from normal objective reality.
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Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher.
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Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
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The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH