Letitia Elizabeth Landon Quotes
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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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There is a favourite in every family; and, generally speaking, that favourite is the most troublesome member in it.
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The scar of fire, the dint of steel,Are easier than Love's wounds to heal.
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Alas! that every lovely thingLives only but for withering,-That spring rainbows and summer shineEnd but in autumn's pale decline.
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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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The discharge of a duty from affection is the best solace for sorrow.
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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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The fearless make their own way.
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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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I LOVED her! ay, I would have givenA death-bed certainty of heavenIf I had thought it could conferThe least of happiness on her!
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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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AY, screen thy favourite dove, fair child,Ay, screen it if you may,-Yet I misdoubt thy trembling handWill scare the hawk away.
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Philosophers are moral, and poets are picturesque about the country.
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November's night is dark and drear,The dullest month of all the year.
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How sweet on the breeze of the evening swellsThe vesper call of those soothing bells,Borne softly and dying in echoes away,Like a requiem sung to the parting day.
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Where, oh, where's the chain to fling,One that will chain Cupid's wing-One that will have longer powerThan the April sun or shower?
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We talk of unsophisticated nature-I should like to know where it is to be found.
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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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-to enjoy yourself is the easy method to give enjoyment to others; …
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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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Ill-timed admiration is enough to enrage a saint.
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A despotic power makes slaves.
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… who has not experienced, at some time or other, that words had all the relief of tears?