“One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph.” — Robert Browning Copy Share Image
One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake. — Robert Browning Copy Share Image
I would have rummaged, ransacked at the word; Those old odd corners of an empty heart; For remnants of dim love the long disused,… — Robert Browning Copy Share
“One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph.” — Robert Browning Copy Share
All service ranks the same with God,- With God, whose puppets, best and worst, Are we: there is no last nor first. — Robert Browning Copy Share
“Have you found your life distasteful? My life did and does smack sweet. Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? Mine I save and hold… — Robert Browning Copy Share
“I was ever a fighter, so---one fight more, The best and the last! I would hate that death bandaged my eyes and forbore, and… — Robert Browning Copy Share
But how carve way i' the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past? — Robert Browning Copy Share
If you get simple beauty and naught else, you get about the best thing God invents. — Robert Browning Copy Share
How good is man's life, the mere living! How fit to employ all the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy! — Robert Browning Copy Share
Oh, to be in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware. — Robert Browning Copy Share
The ultimate, angels' law, Indulging every instinct of the soul There where law, life, joy, impulse are one thing! — Robert Browning Copy Share
Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are… — Robert Browning Copy Share
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture! — Robert Browning Copy Share
