Robert Louis Stevenson Quotes (177 Quotes)


    Trusty, dusky, vivid, true, With eyes of gold and bramble-dew, Steel-true and blade-straight, The great artificer made my mate.

    If a man loves the labour of his trade, apart from any question of success or fame, the gods have called him.


    Small is the trust when love is green
    In sap of early years;
    A little thing steps in between
    And kisses turn to tears.



    We must accept life for what it actually is - a challenge to our quality without which we should never know of what stuff we are made, or grow to our full stature.




    The correction of silence is what kills; when you know you have transgressed, and your friend says nothing, and avoids your eye.

    You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us.


    There is only one difference between a long life and a good dinner: that, in the dinner, the sweets come last.





    He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much who has gained the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children who has filled his niche and accomplished his task, who has left the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul who has never lacked appreciation of earth's beauties, nor failed to express it who has always looked for the best in others and given the best he had whose life is an inspiration whose memory a benediction.

    When I am grown to man's estate I shall be very proud and great. And tell the other girls and boys Not to meddle with my toys.

    To be what we are, and to become what we are capable of becoming, is the only end of life.

    You can read Kant by yourself, if you wanted to; but you must share a joke with someone else.

    Even if we take matrimony at its lowest, even if we regard it as no more than a sort of friendship recognized by the police.

    We live in an ascending scale when we live happily, one thing leading to another in an endless series.




    The web, then, or the pattern, a web at once sensuous and logical, an elegant and pregnant texture: that is style, that is the foundation of the art of literature.


    Related Authors


    O. Henry - Napoleon Hill - Thomas Kuhn - Michael Cunningham - Margaret J. Wheatley - Ivo Andric - Dr. Seuss - Denis Waitley - Bernardo Bertolucci - Ayn Rand


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