Everything that is possible to be believed is an image of the truth.
Everything that is possible to be believed is an image of the truth.
To create a little flower is the labor of ages.
Both read the Bible day and night, but thou read black where I read white.
Prepare your hearts for Death's cold hand prepareYour souls for flight, your bodies for the earthPrepare your arms for glorious victoryPrepare your eyes to meet a holy GodPrepare, prepare
For mercy has a human heart, pity a human face, and love, the human form divine, and peace, the human dress.
Where mercy, love, and pity dwell, there God is dwelling too.
Better murder an infant in its cradle than nurse an unacted desire.
Nature in darkness groans and men are bound to sullen contemplation in the night restless they turn on beds of sorrow in their inmost brain feeling the crushing wheels, they rise, they write the bitter words of stern philosophy and knead the bread of knowledge with tears and groans.
Choosing forms of worship form poetic tales.
As a man is, so he sees. As the eye is formed, such are its powers.
Innocence dwells with wisdom, but never with ignorance
He who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence.
The fool who persists in his folly will become wise.
Embraces are cominglings from the head even to the feet, and not a pompous high priest entering by a secret place.
If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.
The voice of honest indignation is the voice of God.
Sleep, sleep, beauty bright, Dreaming in the joys of night Sleep, sleep in thy sleep Little sorrows sit and weep.
When a sinister person means to be your enemy, they always start by trying to become your friend.
Exuberance is beauty.
My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O my soul is white.
Active Evil is better than Passive Good.
My soul is o'ergrown with distress.
Love seeketh not itself to please, but for another gives its ease.
I happy am
Joy is my name.
On no other ground Can I sow my seed Without tearing up Some stinking weed.
The Whole Business of Man is The Arts, All Things Common.
Men are admitted into Heaven not because they have curbed and governed their passions or have no passions, but because they have cultivated their understandings. The treasures of Heaven are not negations of passion, but realities of intellect, from which all the passions emanate uncurbed in their eternal glory. The fool shall not enter into Heaven let him be ever so holy.
Every night and every morn some to misery are born Every morn and every night some are born to sweet delight.
Lives in eternity's sun rise.
'Twas the Greeks' love of war
Turn'd Love into a boy,
And woman into a statue of stone--
And away fled every joy.
The busy bee has no time for sorrow.
I have mental joys and mental health, Mental friends and mental wealth, I've a wife that I love and that loves me I've all but riches bodily.
Devil, I won't pray to you.
The apple tree never asks the beech how he shall grow, nor the lion the horse, how he shall take his prey.
As I was walking among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments of Genius which to Angels look like torment and insanity, I collected some of their Proverbs, thinking that as the sayings used in a nation mark its character, so the Proverbs of Hell show the nature of Infernal wisdom better than any description of buildings or garments.
Mutual forgiveness of each vice. Such are the Gates of Paradise.
Truth can never be told so as to be understood, and not be believed.
There certainly are moments in history when poets and painters connect so closely as to be one and the same person,
A fool sees not the same tree a wise man sees.
A dog starved at his master's gate predicts the ruin of the state.
Dip him in the river who loves water.
Can it be a song of joy?
Excessive sorrow laughs. Excessive joy weeps.
O Rose, thou art sick The invisible worm, That flies in the night, In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy, And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.
The fire, the fire, is falling!
The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs,Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.
He who would do good to another must do it in Minute Particulars: general Good is the plea of the scoundrel, hypocrite, and flatterer, for Art and Science cannot exist but in minutely organized Particulars.
The Moon like a flower In heaven's high bower, With silent delight, Sits and smiles on the night.
What was the sound of Jesus' breath?
Little Lamb, who made thee Dost thou know who made thee.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories