Ella Wheeler Wilcox Quotes
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The two kinds of people on earth are the people who lift and the people who lean.
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I knew it the first of the summer, I knew it the same at the end, That you and your love were plighted, But couldn't you be my friend?
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Trust in your own untried capacity.
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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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God, what a world, if men in street and mart felt that same kinship of the human heart which makes them, in the face of fire and flood, rise to the meaning of true brotherhood.
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Let us clear a little space, And make Love a burial-place. He is dead, dear, as you see, And he wearies you and me.
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Oh you who read some song I have sung What know you of the soul from whence it sprung
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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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That each sorrow has its purpose, By the sorrowing oft unguessed, But as sure as the sun brings morning, Whatever is-is best.
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For every hour of pain I have had a day of pleasure. For every moment of worry, an hour of content.
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When we tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new. This restless craving in the souls of men spurs them to climb, and to seek the mountain view.
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Just a little every day That's the way Children learn to read and write Bit by bit and mite by mite.
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Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it.
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Hide in your heart a bitter thought, Still it has power to blight; Think Love, although you speak it not It gives the world more light.
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And she has a thousand virtues and not one acknowledged sin, But she is the sort of person you could liken to a pin. And she pricks you, and she sticks you, in a way that can't be said, When you seek for what has hurt you, why, you cannot find the head.
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There is no balking genius. Only death can silence it or hinder.
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This dream of our youth will fade out as the splendor Fades from the skies when the sun sinks to sleep.
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I like the roar of cities. In the mart, Where busy toilers strive for place and gain, I seem to read humanity's great heart, And share its hopes, its pleasures, and its pain.
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Keep out of the past. It is haunted.
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There is nothing ridiculous in love.
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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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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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There is no thing we cannot overcome Say not thy evil instinct is inherited, Or that some trait inborn makes thy whole life forlorn, And calls down punishment that is not merited.
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We waste half our strength in a useless regretting; We sit by old tombs in the dark too long.