Ella Wheeler Wilcox Quotes
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Let mine not be that saddest fate of all To live beyond my greater self; to see My faculties decaying, as the tree Stands stark and helpless while its green leaves fall... "She lives, but all her usefulness is past."
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There is nothing we cannot live down, and rise above, and overcome.
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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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'Tis the set of the sail that decides the goal, and not the storm of life.
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But though that place I never gain, Herein lies comfort for my pain: I will be worthy of it.
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But now I know that there is no killing A thing like Love, for it laughs at Death. There is no hushing, there is no stilling That which is part of your life and breath. You may bury it deep, and leave behind you The land, the people that knew your slain; It will push the sods from its grave, and find you On wastes of water or desert plain.
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'Tis they who are in their own chambers haunted By thoughts that like unbidden guests intrude, And sit down, uninvited and unwanted, And make a nightmare of the solitude.
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Give, and thou shalt receive. Give thoughts of cheer,Of courage and success, to friend and stranger.And from a thousand sources, far and near,Strength will be sent thee in thy hour of danger.
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There is no chance, no destiny, no fate, that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.
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Look in; and learn the wrong, and right, From your own soul's unwritten laws. And when you question, or demur, Let Love be your Interpreter.
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The world has a thousand creeds, and never a one have I; Nor church of my own, though a million spires are pointing the way on high. But I float on the bosom of faith, that bears me along like a river; And the lamp of my soul is alight with love, for life, and the world, and the Giver.
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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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No fate could rob us of our own-- No circumstance can make it less; What time removes was but a loan, For what was ours we still possess.
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I'm no reformer; for I see more lightThan darkness in the world; mine eyes are quickTo catch the first dim radiance of the dawn,And slow to note the cloud that threatens storm.
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Life is too short for any vain regretting... Between the swift sun's rising and its setting, we have no time for useless tears or fretting, life is too short.... Time is the best avenger if we wait, the years speed by, and on their wings bear healing, life is too short for aught but high endeavor-too short for spite, but long enough for love. And love lives on forever and forever.
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Who would attain to summits still and fair,Must nerve himself through valleys of despair.
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Thou canst not force my soul to wish thee ill, That is the only evil that can kill.
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Love lights more fires than hate extinguishes, and men grow better as the world grows old.
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All roads that lead to God are good.
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Give her not greatness. For great souls must stand Alone and lonely in this little world: Cleft rocks that show the great Creator's hand, Thither by earthquakes hurled.
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Then I turned to him commanding That he go the way he came, whence he came. But he answered me in sorrow, "May the Past not seek to borrow From the Present without blame - Just one memory from its store, Ere it goes to come no more, Back the pathway that it came, whence it came?"
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No joy for which thy hungering heart has panted, No hope it cherishes through waiting years, But if thou dost deserve it, shall be granted For with each passionate wish the blessing nears. Tune up the fine, strong instrument of thy being To chord with thy dear hope, and do not tire. When both in key and rhythm are agreeing, Lo! thou shalt kiss the lips of thy desire. The thing thou cravest so waits in the distance, Wrapt in the silences, unseen and dumb: Essential to thy soul and thy existence-- Live worthy of it--call, and it shall come.
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While forced to dwell apart from thy dear face, Love, robed like sorrow, led me by the hand And taught my doubting heart to understand That which has puzzled all the human race.
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One bitter time of mourning, I remember, When day, and night, my sad heart did complain, My life, I said, was one cold, bleak December, And all its pleasures, were but whited pain.