Ah what avails the sceptred race, Ah what the form divine! What every virtue, every grace! Rose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes May weep, but never see, A night of memories and of sighs I… — Walter Savage Landor Copy Share Image
Was genius ever ungrateful? Mere talents are dry leaves, tossed up and down by gusts of passion, and scattered and swept away; but, Genius lies on the bosom of Memory, and Gratitude at her feet. — Walter Savage Landor Copy Share Image
Ah what avails the sceptred race, Ah what the form divine! What every virtue, every grace! Rose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom… — Walter Savage Landor Copy Share Image
No ashes are lighter than those of incense, and few things burn out sooner. — Walter Savage Landor Copy Share Image
As there are some flowers which you should smell but slightly to extract all that is pleasant in them ... so there are some… — Walter Savage Landor Copy Share Image
States, like men, have their growth, their manhood, their decrepitude, their decay. — Walter Savage Landor Copy Share Image
The only effect of public punishment is to show the rabble how bravely it can be borne; and that every one who hath lost… — Walter Savage Landor Copy Share Image
Every great writer is a writer of history, let him treat on almost what subject he may. — Walter Savage Landor Copy Share Image
The habit of pleasing by flattery makes a language soft; the fear of offending by truth makes it circuitous and conventional. — Walter Savage Landor Copy Share Image
