James Russell Lowell Quotes
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What men prize most is a privilege, even if it be that of chief mourner at a funeral.
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A great man is made up of qualities that meet or make great occasions.
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The question of common sense is always 'What is it good for?'—a question which would abolish the rose and be answered triumphantly by the cabbage.
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Light is the symbol of truth.
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There is no work of genius which has not been the delight of mankind, no word of genius to which the human heart and soul have not sooner or later responded.
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The only faith that wears well and holds its color in all weathers is that which is woven of conviction and set with the sharp mordant of experience.
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Poetry is something to make us wiser and better, by continually revealing those types of beauty and truth, which God has set in all men's souls.
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They come transfigured back,Secure from change in their high-hearted ways,Beautiful evermore, and with the raysOf morn on their white Shields of Expectation!
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Solitude is as needful to the imagination as society is wholesome for the character.
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It's 'most enough to make a deacon swear.
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You've gut to git up airlyEf you want to take in God.
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Sentiment is intellectualized emotion, - emotion precipitated, as it were, in pretty crystals by the fancy.
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The greatest homage we can pay to truth, is to use it.
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Let us be of good cheer, however, remembering that the misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never come.
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Along A River-Side, I Know Not Where,I walked one night in mystery of dream;A chill creeps curdling yet beneath my hair,To think what chanced me by the pallid gleamOf a moon-wraith that waned through haunted air.
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Ye come and go incessant; we remainSafe in the hallowed quiets of the past;Be reverent, ye who flit and are forgot,Of faith so nobly realized as this.
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A marciful Providunce fashioned us hollerO' purpose thet we might our principles swaller.
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A weed is no more than a flower in disguise, Which is seen through at once, if love give a man eyes.
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There are two kinds of weakness, that which breaks and that which bends.
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Gineral C. is a dreffle smart man;He’s ben on all sides thet give places or pelf;But consistency still wuz a part of his plan,-He’s ben true to one party, an’ thet is himself.
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Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light.
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Our slender life runs rippling by, and glidesInto the silent hollow of the past;What is there that abidesTo make the next age better for the last?
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Nature, they say, doth dote,And cannot make a manSave on some worn-out plan,Repeating us by rote.
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Soft-heartedness, in times like these,Shows sof'ness in the upper story.