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The memory of the just survives in Heaven.

William Wordsworth

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Heaven Memories Survive

Bagwalas

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

There is creation in the eye.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Creation Eyes
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Breathe Heart Yourself
Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Glory Happiness
Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Nature Philosophy Wisdom
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Feeling Poetry Powerful
The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Ocean One Liner
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.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Born Flower Joy Thinking
Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Gift Nature
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

Death Eyes Life Myself See Travel
Great men have been among us; hands that penn’d and tongues that utter’d wisdom.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Greatness Hands Man Wisdom
One daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Flower Oneself Worth
Life is divided into three terms – that which was, which is, and which will be.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Future Life Past Philosphy Present
The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet’s dream.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Dream Light Poet Sea
Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Moments Ourselves Silence
But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Creation Enemy Herself Imagination Light
Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Feeling Ourselves Pleasure Pride

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