Robert Browning


English Poet and Playwright

Author Quotes

Ye know why the forms are fair, ye hear how the tale is told: It is all triumphant art, but art in obedience to laws,

You get about the best thing God invents.

Who knows most doubts most.

White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so: life's business being just the terrible choice.

Who knows but the world may end to-night.

When the fight begins within himself A man s worth something.

Whenever a separation is made between liberty and justice, neither, in my opinion, is safe.

What's a man's age? He must hurry more, that's all; Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold.

What's the earth With all its art, verse, music, worth - Compared with love, found, gained, and kept?

What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew.

What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up, And be discharged, and straight wound up anew? No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets; May learn a thousand things, not twice the same.

What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?

What so wild as words are?

What a thing friendship is, world without end!

What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me.

We mortals cross the ocean of this world Each in his average cabin of a life; The bests not big, the worst yields elbowroom.

Welcome each rebuff, That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go!

Truth lies within ourselves: it takes no rise from outward things, whatever you may believe. There is an inmost center in us all, where truth abides in fullness and to Know rather consists in opening out a way whence the imprisoned splendor may escape than in effecting entry for light supposed to be without.

Vows can't change nature, priests are only men, and love likes stratagem and subterfuge.

To do good thing in the world, first you must know who you are and what gives meaning to your life.

To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, and, baffled, get up and begin again.

Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.

There's a woman like a dew-drop, She's so purer than the purest.

This could but have happened once, And we missed it, lost it forever.

There shall never be one lost good! What was shall live as before; The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound; What was good shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.

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English Poet and Playwright