William Blake
Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained. ― William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1789) Advertisements
Category: English Literature
William Shakespeare
Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything. — William Shakespeare, As You Like It. Act II Scene… Continue reading William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare
But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit. — William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice Act II. Scene vi.
Virginia Woolf
I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past. ― Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Volume Three: 1925-1930. (Mariner Books; First edition, September 14, 1981)
Virginia Woolf
Let us record the atoms as they fall upon the mind in the order in which they fall, let us trace the pattern, however disconnected and incoherent in appearance, which each sight or incident scores upon the consciousness. Let us not take it for granted that life exists more fully in what is commonly thought… Continue reading Virginia Woolf
William Blake
The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the Eyes of others only a Green thing that stands in the way. Some see Nature all ridicule and deformity, and by these I shall not regulate my proportions; and some scarce see Nature at all. But to the Eyes of the Man of… Continue reading William Blake
Thomas Hardy
The Darkling Thrush I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-grey, And Winter’s dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh Had sought their household fires. The land’s sharp features seemed to be The Century’s corpse… Continue reading Thomas Hardy
