William Wordsworth
Poems
Quotes
Books
Biography
Comments
Images
Wisdom is ofttimes nearer when we stoop Than when we soar.
Quote by William Wordsworth
Click on the picture of
William Wordsworth quote
you want to see a larger version.
William Wordsworth Quotes
How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold Because the lovely little flower is free Down to its root, and in that freedom bold.
The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benedictions.
A mind forever voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.
The world is too much with us late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers Little we see in Nature that is ours We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.
Life is divided into three terms - that which was, which is, and which will be. Let us learn from the past to profit by the present, and from the present to live better in the future.
Wisdom is ofttimes nearer when we stoop Than when we soar.
To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Nature never did betray, The heart that loved her.
Best Quotes
An association of men who will not quarrel with one another is a thing which has never yet existed, from the greatest confederacy of nations down to a town meeting or a vestry.
The thing that stood out above and beyond all the experiences was this relationship with the nine-month-old baby. On weekends, I'd be thinking about going back to set on Monday just to see the baby.
The White House isn't the place to learn how to deal with international crisis, the balance of power, war and peace, and the economic future of the next generation.
Acting is a question of absorbing other people's personalities and adding some of your own experience.
I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.
Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young.
There is no road too long to the man who advances deliberately and without undue haste there are no honors too distant to the man who prepares himself for them with patience.
He is a hard man who is only just and a sad one who is only wise.
Men are so necessarily mad, that not to be mad would amount to another form of madness.
It requires more courage to suffer than to die.
Toggle navigation
internet
Poem
.com
Home
Poems
All Poems
Best Poems
Read Poem
New Poems
Poets
Quotes
Submit Poem