Ella Wheeler Wilcox Quotes
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Distrust that man who tells you to distrust. He takes the measure of his own small soul, and thinks the world no larger.
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And he who has dwelt with his heart alone, Hears all the music in friendship's tone. So better and better I comprehend How sorrow ever would be our friend.
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It is never too late to begin rebuilding, Though all into ruins your life seems hurled; For see! how the light of the New Year is gilding The wan, worn face of the bruised old world.
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There is a haunting phantom called Regret, A shadowy creature robed somewhat like woe, But fairer in the face, whom all men know By her said mien, and eyes forever wet. No heart would seek her; but once having met All take her by the hand, and to and fro They wander through those paths of long ago-- Those hallowed ways 'twere wiser to forget.
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Went up from my feet to my head, With little chills after it stealing- And my hands got as numb as the dead. A moment, and then it was over: The diamond blazed up in my eyes, And I saw in the face of my lover A questioning, strange surprise. Maybe 'twas the scent of the flowers, That heavy with fragrance bloomed near, But I didn't feel natural for hours; It was odd now, wasn't it, dear? Write soon to your fortunate Clara Who has carried the prize away, And say you'll come on when I marry; I think it will happen in May.
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Know that you are great...so dominate.
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O skies, be calm! O winds, blow free - Blow all my ships safe home to me! But if thou sendest some a-wrack, To never more come sailing back, Send any - all that skim the sea, But bring my love-ship home to me.
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Talk health. The dreary, never-changing tale Of mortal maladies is worn and stale. You cannot charm, or interest, or please By harping in that minor chord, disease. Say you are well, or all is well with you, And God shall hear your words and make them true.
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Many times I am asked why the suffering of animals should call forth more sympathy from me than the suffering of human beings; why I work in this direction of charitable work more than toward any other. My answer is that because I believe that this work includes all the education and lines of reform which are needed to make a perfect circle of peace and goodwill about the Earth.
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Laugh, and the world laughs with you: Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own.
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There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain.
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Through strife the slumbering soul awakes, We learn on error's troubled route The truths we could not prize without The sorrow of our sad mistakes.
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This world is a vaporous jest at best, Tossed off by the gods in laughter, And a cruel attempt at wit were it, If nothing better came after.
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It has ever been since time began, and ever will be, till time lose breath, that love is a mood - no more - to man, and love to a woman is life or death.
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Ah, lady! it is hardly what you thought it, This life of luxury and social power; You gave yourself as principal, and bought it, But God extracts the interest hour by hour.
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Not to the curious or impatient soulThat in the start, demands the end be shown,And at each step, stops waiting for a sign;But to the tireless toiler toward the goal,Shall the great miracles of God be knownAnd life revealed, immortal and divine.
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There is nothing we cannot live down, and rise above, and overcome.
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Love lights more fires than hate extinguishes, and men grow better as the world grows old.
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We flatter those we scarcely know, We please the fleeting guest; And deal full many a thoughtless blow, To those who love us best. Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own. There is new strength, repose of mind, and inspiration in fresh apparel.
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Unwearied, and with springing steps elate, I had conveyed my wealth along the road. The empty sack proved now a heavier load: I was borne down beneath its worthless weight. I stumbled on, and knocked at Death's dark gate. There was no answer. Stung by sorrow's goad I forced my way into that grim abode, And laughed, and flung Life's empty sack to Fate.
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Let me, tonight look back across the span Twixt dawn and dark, and to my conscience say- Because of some good act to beast or human- The world is better that I lived today.
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I know there are no errors, In the great Eternal plan.
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Gifts count for nothing; will alone is great; All things give way before it, soon or late.
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It is easy to tell the toiler How best he can carry his pack But no one can rate a burden's weight Until it has been on his back