Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
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Courtesy wins woman all as well. As valor may, but he that closes both is perfect.
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Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
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Live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts are hurled Far below them in the valleys, and the clouds are lightly curled Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world.
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The city is built To music, therefore never built at all, And therefore built forever.
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Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land; Ring in the Christ that is to be.
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Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long.
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Manners are not idle, but the fruit of loyal and of noble mind.
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A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?
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And sometimes through the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two.
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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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O son, thou hast not true humility, The highest virtue, mother of them all; But her thou hast not know; for what is this? Thou thoughtest of thy prowess and thy sins Thou hast not lost thyself to save thyself.
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That loss is common would not make My own less bitter, rather more: Too common! Never morning wore To evening, but some heart did break.
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...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.
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For always roaming with a hungry heart.
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Come, my friends Tis not too late to seek a newer world Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die.
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Love's too precious to be lost, A little grain shall not be spilt.
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But what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry.
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The parting of a husband and wife is like the cleaving of a heart; one half will flutter here, one there.
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And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers.
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We are ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times.
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The voice of the dead was a living voice to me.
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The many fail: the one succeeds.
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But thy strong Hours indignant work’d their wills, And beat me down and marr’d and wasted me, And tho’ they could not end me, left me maim’d To dwell in presence of immortal youth, Immortal age beside immortal youth, And all I was, in ashes. - Tithonus
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As love, if love be perfect, casts out fear, so hate, if hate be perfect, casts out fear.