1
Perhaps when all is written courageously, I shall have no courage left to publish it.
The complete collection
15 quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning · clear filters
Perhaps when all is written courageously, I shall have no courage left to publish it.
The unity of God preserves a unity in men--that is, a perpetual sympathy between man and man--which sympathy we must be subject to, if not in our joys, yet in our griefs.
you would wonder at seeing how possible it is to live as secludedly in the midst of a multitude as in the centre of solitude
Once I wished not to live, but the faculty of life seems to have sprung up in me again, from under the crushing foot of heavy grief.
There are probably as many different dialects for the heart as for the tongue, are there not?
Life is not only short, but uncertain, and art is not only long, but absorbing.
In our sorrow we see the rough side of the stuff; in our joys the smooth; and who shall say that when the taffeta is turned the most silk may not be in the sorrows?
If sorrow in its reaction makes us think of our friends, let my name come among the list of yours to you, and with it let the thought come that I am not the coldest and least sincere.
Do you think I was born to live the life of an oyster, such as I do live here?
we never could differ about the worth and comfort of domestic affection
Husband, lover, nurse--not one of these, has Robert been to me, but all three together.
There is only one event in my life which never loses its bitterness; which comes back on me like a retreating wave, going and coming again, which was and is my grief--I never had but one brother who loved and comprehended me.
Oh, if our friends would but put off anatomising one till after one was safely dead, and call to mind that, previously, we have nerves to be agonised and morbid brains to be driven mad!
A man's life does not develop rightly without it, and what is called an 'improvident marriage' often appears to me a noble, righteous, and prudent act.
When gone from hence, may nobody think of me again, except when one or two may think perhaps how I loved them