William Wordsworth Quotes
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How is it that you live, and what is it you do?
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There is creation in the eye.
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The budding rose above the rose full blown.
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The wealthiest man among us is the best
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What we have loved Others will love And we will teach them how.
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in the mind of man, A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things.
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The Poet, gentle creature as he is, Hath, like the Lover, his unruly times; His fits when he is neither sick nor well, Though no distress be near him but his own Unmanageable thoughts.
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For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.
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A mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
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That kill the bloom before its time, And blanch, without the owner's crime, The most resplendent hair.
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Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
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poetry is the breath and finer spirit of knowledge
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Stern Winter loves a dirge – like sound.
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Thought and theory must precede all action, that moves to salutary purposes. Yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.
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Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good: Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
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She was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight, A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, Like twilights too her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn.
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Far from the world I walk, and from all care.
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He spake of love, such love as spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure; No fears to beat away, no strife to heal,- The past unsighed for, and the future sure.
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The child is father of the man: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
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A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard... Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.
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Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore of nicely-caluculated less or more.
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My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The Child is father of the Man; I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
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Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he That every man in arms should wish to be? It is the generous spirit, who, when brought Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought: Whose high endeavors are an inward light That makes the path before him always bright: Who, with a natural instinct to discern What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn; And in himself posses his own desire