Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
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All experience is an arch wherethro' gleams that untraveled world whose margins fade forever and forever as we move.
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She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott.
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It's better to have tried and failed than to live life wondering what would've happened if I had tried.
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The dirty nurse, Experience, in her kind Hath fouled me.
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Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower-but if I could understand What you are, root and all, all in all, I should know what God and man is.
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Happy days roll onward leading up to golden years.
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What's up is faith, what's down is heresy.
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Sweet is true love though given in vain, in vain; And sweet is death who puts an end to pain: I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. Love, art thou sweet? then bitter death must be: Love, thou art bitter; sweet is death to me. O Love, if death be sweeter, let me die. ... I fain would follow love, if that could be; I needs must follow death, who calls for me; Call and I follow, I follow! let me die.
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It is unconceivable that the whole Universe was merely created for us who live in this third-rate planet of a third-rate moon.
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Nature, red in tooth and claw.
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Man is the hunter; women are the game; those sleek and shining creatures of the chase. We hunt them for the beauty of their skins; they love us for it, and we ride them down.
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I can't sleep without knowing there's hope. Half the night I waste in sighs. In a wakeful doze I sorrow. For the hands, for the lips... the eyes. For the meeting of tomorrow.
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O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
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I grow in worth, and wit, and sense, Unboding critic-pen, Or that eternal want of pence, Which vexes public men.
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You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear; To-morrow'll be the happiest time of all the glad New Year,- Of all the glad New Year, mother, the maddest, merriest day; For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be queen o' the May.
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For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid.
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Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
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As love, if love be perfect, casts out fear, so hate, if hate be perfect, casts out fear.
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How fares it with the happy dead?
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I know that age to age succeeds, Blowing a noise of tongues and deeds, A dust of systems and of creeds.
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Where love could walk with banish'd, Hope no more.
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Those who depend on the merits of their ancestors may be said to search in the roots of the tree for those fruits which the branches ought to produce.
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Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, oh sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me.
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I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone.