This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
American-born English Author, Poet and Essayist
"There was once a golden age because golden hearts beat in it. If it comes again, it will scarcely be through scientific progress."
"Children are born optimists and we slowly educate them out of their heresy."
"Can trout allure the rod of yore in itchen stream to dip? Or lover of her banks restore that sweet Socratic lip? Old fishing and wishing are over many a year. Oh, hush thee, oh, hush thee! Heart innocent and dear. Again the foamy shallows fill, the quiet clouds amass, and soft as bees by Catherine hill at dawn the anglers pass, and follow the hollow, in boughs to disappear. Oh, hush thee, oh, hush thee! Heart innocent and dear. Nay, rise not now, nor with them take one amber-freckled fool! Thy sons to-day bring each an ache for ancient arts to cool. But, father, lie rather unhurt and idle near; oh, hush thee, oh, hush thee! Heart innocent and dear. While thought of thee to men is yet a sylvan playfellow, ne'er by thy marble they forget in pious cheer to go. As air falls, the prayer falls o'er kingly Winchester: oh, hush thee, oh, hush thee! Heart innocent and dear."
"Quotations (such as have point and lack triteness) from the great old authors are an act of reverence on the part of the quoter, and a blessing to a public grown superficial and external."
"Summum bonum: He who has made us needful knows our need. To take what is, to dare not nor desire one inch beyond, but softly to suspire against his gift with no inglorious greed this is true joy, though still our joys recede. And, as in octaves of a noble lyre, to move our minds with his, and clearer, higher, sound forth our fate-oh, this is strength indeed! Thanks to his love, both earth and man dispense sweet smoke of worship when the heart is stillest, a praying more than prayer: "Great good have I till it be greater good to lay it by; nor can I lose peace, power, permanence, for these smile on me from the thing thou willest."
"High above hate I dwell, O storms! farewell."