Letitia Elizabeth Landon Quotes
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Oh, where is there the heart but knowsLove's first steps are upon the rose!
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I dreamed a dream, that I had flung a chainOf roses around Love,-I woke, and foundI had chained Sorrow.
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-the unpunished crime is never regretted. We weep over the consequence, not over the fault.
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The city and the crowd unidealise love; and love, in the young warm heart of a girl, should be a dream apart from all commoner emotions - as sweet and as ethereal as the blush with which it is born and dies. Beauty gives its own gracefulness to love - there must be romance blended with the passion inspired by the very lovely face which the mirror reflected.
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'Tis strange how the heart can createOr colour from itself its fate;We make ourselves our own distress,We are ourselves our happiness.
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Deceit is this world's passport: who would dare,However pure the breast, to lay it bare?
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Cradle of Letters ! Mistress of the World !Soil of the Sun ! Italia! I salute thee !How oft the human race have worn thy yoke.The vessels of thine arms, thine arts, thy sky !
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Now out upon you, Christmas !Is this the merry time When the red hearth blazed, the harper sung,And the bells rung their glorious chime ? . . .
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The first, the very first; oh! noneCan feel again as they have done;In love, in war, in pride, in allThe planets of life's coronal,However beautiful or bright,-What can be like their first sweet light?
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From Cesario
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How strong is the love of the country in all indwellers of towns !
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He fell as other thousands do,Trampled down where they fall,While on a single name is heap'dThe glory gain'd by all.Yet even he whose common graveLies in the open fields,Died not without a thought of allThe joy that glory yields.
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Good and evil ! good and evil ! ye are mingled inextricably in the web of our being ; and who may unthread the darker yarn ?
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I am a daughter of that land,Where the poet’s lip and the painter’s handAre most divine, -where the earth and sky,Are picture both and poetry-I am of Florence.
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There is no denying the fact, that in all sudden emergencies a woman has ten times the presence of mind, or, to use the common expression, her wits more about her than a man.
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But as our explanation will be more brief than one broken in upon by words of wonder, regret, and affection, we will proceed to it ; holding that explanation, like advice, should be of all convenient shortness.
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By turns the woman and the queen,And each as the other had never been.
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The dying chief sprang to his knee,And the staunch'd wounds well'd fearfully;But his gash'd arm, what is it now?Livid his lip, and black his brow,While over him the slayer stood,As if he almost scorn'd the bloodThat cost so little to be won,-He strikes,-the work of death is done!
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The discharge of a duty from affection is the best solace for sorrow.
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Philosophers are moral, and poets are picturesque about the country.
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'There is a steep and lofty wall,Where my warders trembling stand,He who at speed shall ride round its height,For him shall be my hand.'
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Cecil Forrester was heir to many misfortunes, being handsome, rich, high-born, and clever.
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I rather disdained than coveted the luxuries I saw : alas ! we desire riches more for others than ourselves.
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I LOVED her! ay, I would have givenA death-bed certainty of heavenIf I had thought it could conferThe least of happiness on her!