Coventry Patmore Quotes
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Ah, wasteful woman, she who mayOn her sweet self set her own price,Knowing man cannot choose but pay,How has she cheapen'd paradise;How given for nought her priceless gift,How spoil'd the bread and spill'd the wine,Which, spent with due, respective thrift,Had made brutes men, and men divine.
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To have noughtIs to have all things without care or thought!
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Kind souls, you wonder why, love you,When you, you wonder why, love none.We love, Fool, for the good we do,Not that which unto us is done!
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Having my law the seventh time disobey'd,I struck him, and dismiss'dWith hard words and unkiss'd,-His Mother, who was patient, being dead.
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The flower of olden sanctities.
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Love wakes men, once a lifetime each;They lift their heavy lids, and look;And, lo, what one sweet page can teach,They read with joy, then shut the book.
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For want of me the world’s course will not fail;When all its work is done the lie shall rot;The truth is great and shall prevailWhen none cares whether it prevail or not.
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The sunshine dreaming upon Salmon’s heightIs not so sweet and whiteAs the most heretofore sin-spotted SoulThat darts to its delightStraight from the absolution of a faithful fight.
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A woman is a foreign land.
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None thrives for long upon the happiest dream.
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'I saw you take his kiss!' ''Tis true.''O, modesty!' ''Twas strictly kept:He thought me asleep; at least, I knewHe thought I thought he thought I slept.'
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Life is not life at all without delight.