Love, built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.
But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space.
O Lord, never suffer us to think that we can stand by ourselves, and not need thee.
To be no part of any body, is to be nothing.
Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
I shall die reading; since my book and a grave are so near.
A man that is not afraid of a Lion is afraid of a Cat .
I am a little world made cunningly.
I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so.
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.
Sleep with clean hands, either kept clean all day by integrity or washed clean at night by repentance.
Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
Commemoration of Pandita Mary Ramabai, Translator of the Scriptures, 1922 A memory of yesterday's pleasures, a fear of tomorrow's dangers, a straw under my knees, a noise in my ear, a light in my eye, an anything, a nothing, a fancy, a chimera in my brain, troubles me in my prayers.
Now God comes to thee, not as in the dawning of the day, not as in the bud of the spring, but as the sun at noon to illustrate all shadows, as the sheaves in harvest, to fill all penuries, all occasions invite his mercies, and all times are his seasons.
Love's mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.
Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.
Death is an ascension to a better library.
More than kisses, letters mingle souls.
we give each other a smile with a future in it
When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language.
Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes.
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent.
No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.
And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
I would not that death should take me asleep. I would not have him merely seize me, and only declare me to be dead, but win me, and overcome me. When I must shipwreck, I would do it in a sea, where mine impotency might have some excuse; not in a sullen weedy lake, where I could not have so much as exercise for my swimming.
Full nakedness! All my joys are due to thee, as souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be, to taste whole joys.
I neglect God and his angles for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.
On a huge hill, Cragged, and steep, Truth stands, and hee that willReach her, about must, and about must goo.
I long to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the god of love was born.
I do not love a man, except I hate his vices, because those vices are the enemies, and the destruction of that friend whom I love.
Love is strong as death; but nothing else is as strong as either; and both, love and death, met in Christ. How strong and powerful upon you, then, should that instruction be, that comes to you from both these, the love and death of Jesus Christ!
All mankind is one volume. When one man dies, a chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language. And every chapter must be translated. God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice. But God's hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall live open to one another
As he that fears God fears nothing else, so he that sees God sees everything else.
ask not for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee
Art is the most passionate orgy within man's grasp.
Nature's great masterpiece, an elephant; the only harmless great thing.
Then love is sin, and let me sinful be.
God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice.
And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?
Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail.