Letitia Elizabeth Landon Quotes
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From Cesario
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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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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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What a mistake rage is ! anger should never go beyond a sneer, if it really desires revenge.
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Oh, she had yet the task to learnHow often woman's heart must turnTo feed upon its own excessOf deep yet passionate tenderness!How much of grief the heart must proveThat yields a sanctuary to love!
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The scar of fire, the dint of steel,Are easier than Love's wounds to heal.
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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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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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-music's powerIs little felt in sunlit hour;But hear its voice when hopes depart,Like swallows, flying from the heartOn which the summer's late declineHas set a sadness and a sign;. . . . . .How deeply will the spirit feelThe lute, the song's sweet-voiced appeal;And how the heart drink in their sighsAs echoes they from Paradise.
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But youth is as a flowing stream, on whose current the shadow may rest but not remain.
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How strong is the love of the country in all indwellers of towns !
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... oh! love will lastWhen all that made it happiness is past,-When all its hopes are as the glittering toysTime present offers, time to come destroys,-
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There is a favourite in every family; and, generally speaking, that favourite is the most troublesome member in it.
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From Castruccio
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November's night is dark and drear,The dullest month of all the year.
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We again repeat, that there is no temper so communicative as an imaginative one.
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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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Ill-timed admiration is enough to enrage a saint.
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… who has not experienced, at some time or other, that words had all the relief of tears?
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But in this world every thing has its evil ; the dust is on the wheels of the conqueror's chariot-the silken-wrought tapestry covers the mouldering wall;
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-to enjoy yourself is the easy method to give enjoyment to others; …
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A despotic power makes slaves.
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THE present! it is but a drop from the seaIn the mighty depths of eternity.I love it not-it taketh its birthToo near to the dull and the common earth.