Quotes
Quotes - Tennyson
The song that nerves a nation's heart
Is in itself a deed.
All the charm of all the Muses often flowering in a lonely word.
That man's the best Cosmopolite
Who loves his native country best.
Love your enemy, bless your haters, said the Greatest of the great;
Christian love among the Churches looked the twin of heathen hate.
Charm us, orator, till the lion look no larger than the cat.
You that woo the Voices--tell them "Old Experience is a fool";
Teach your flattered kings that only those who can not read can rule.
Authors--essayist, atheist, novelist, realist, rhymester, play your part,
Paint the mortal shame of nature with the living hues of art.
Who can fancy warless men?
Warless? war will die out late then. Will it ever? late or soon?
Can it, till this outworn earth be dead as yon dead world the moon?
Yet the moonlight is the sunlight and the sun himself will pass.
Is there evil but on earth? or pain in every peopled sphere?
Follow you the star that lights a desert pathway, yours or mine.
Forward, till you see the Highest Human Nature is divine.
Love will conquer at the last.
What use to brood? This life of mingled pains
And joys to me,
Despite of every Faith and Creed, remains
The Mystery.
Be patient. Our Playwright may show
In some fifth act what this wild Drama means.
A mastiff dog
May love a puppy cur for no more reason
Than that the twain have been tied up together.
To persecute
Makes a faith hated, and is furthermore
No perfect witness of a perfect faith
In him who persecutes.
In statesmanship
To strike too soon is oft to miss the blow.
My lord, you know what Virgil sings--
Woman is various and most mutable.
To do him any wrong was to beget
A kindness from him, for his heart was rich--
Of such fine mould that if you sowed therein
The seed of Hate, it blossomed Charity.
Remember that sore saying spoken once
By Him that was the Truth, 'How hard it is
For the rich man to enter into heaven!'
Let all rich men remember that hard word.
Come out, my lord, it is a world of fools.
Unalterably and pesteringly fond.
In our windy world
What's up is faith, what's down is heresy.
Old men must die, or the world would grow mouldy, would only breed the past again.
Ambition
Is like the sea wave, which the more you drink
The more you thirst--yea--drink too much, as men
Have done on rafts of wreck--it drives you mad.
