Memories -images and precious thoughts that shall not die and cannot be destroyed.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTHThe memory of the just survives in Heaven.
More William Wordsworth Quotes
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The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet’s dream.
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May books and nature be their early joy!
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And we shall find A pleasure in the dimness of the stars.
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Faith is a passionate intuition.
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Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.
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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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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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The memory of the just survives in Heaven.
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Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge; it is the impassioned expression which is in the countenance of all Science.
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And I am happy when I sing.
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Love betters what is best.
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Prompt to move but firm to wait – knowing things rashly sought are rarely found.
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That inward eye/ Which is the bliss of solitude.
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My heart leaps up when I behold
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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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Come grow old with me. The best is yet to be.
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The education of circumstances is superior to that of intuition.
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From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
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True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Till heart with heart in concord beats, and the lover is beloved.
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.
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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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A famous man is Robin Hood, The English ballad-singer’s joy.
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I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o’er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
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Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.
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But He is risen, a later star of dawn.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH