| Quotes |
Topic |
| Age | A woman's always younger than a man of equal years. |
| Autumn | Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God; And only he who sees takes off his shoes; The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries. |
| Beauty | The beauty seems right By force of beauty, and the feeble wrong Because of weakness. |
| Beauty | The essence of all beauty, I call love, The attribute, the evidence, and end, The consummation to the inward sense Of beauty apprehended from without, I still call love. |
| Blushes | Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive, Half wishing they were dead to save the shame. The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow; They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats, And flare up bodily, wings and all. |
| Business | The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise, I barter for curl upon that mart. |
| Buttercups | He likes the poor things of the world the best, I would not, therefore, if I could be rich. It pleases him t stoop for buttercups. |
| Childhood | Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years? They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, And that cannot stop their tears. |
| Crime | There's not a crime But takes its proper change out still in crime If once rung on the counter of this world. |
| Daisies | And a breastplate made of daisies, Closely fitting, leaf on leaf, Periwinkles interlaced Drawn for belt about the waist; While the brown bees, humming praises, Shot their arrows round the chief. |
| Democracy | For poets (bear the word) Half-poets even, are still whole democrats. |
| Despair | The world goes whispering to its own, "This anguish pierces to the bone;" And tender friends go sighing round, "What love can ever cure this wound?" My days go on, my days go on. |
| Destiny | Life treads on life, and heart on heart; We press too close in church and mart To keep a dream or grave apart. |
| Devil | The devil's most devilish when respectable. |
| Doves | And there my little doves did sit With feathers softly brown And glittering eyes that showed their right To general Nature's deep delight. |
| Eyes | Eyes of gentianellas azure, Staring, winking at the skies. |
| Famous Last Words | Beautiful. (in reply to her husband who had asked how she felt moments before her death.). |
| Flowers | And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white. |
| Flowers | Brazen helm of daffodillies, With a glitter toward the light. Purple violets for the mouth, Breathing perfumes west and south; And a sword of flashing lilies, Holden ready for the fight. |
| Flowers | Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead. She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,-- And both turned into flowers for the earth's garden-close; Her tears, to the wind-flower,--his blood, to the rose. |
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