An empty book is like an infant's soul, in which anything may be written. It is capable of all things, but containeth nothing. I have a mind to fill this with profitable wonders. — Thomas Traherne Copy Share Image
Is it not easy to conceive the World in your Mind? To think the Heavens fair? The Sun Glorious? The Earth fruitful? The Air Pleasant? The Sea Profitable? And the Giver bountiful? Yet these are the things which it is… — Thomas Traherne Copy Share Image
The Soul is shriveled up and buried in a grave that does not love. — Thomas Traherne Copy Share Image
To love one person with a private love is poor and miserable: to love all is glorious. — Thomas Traherne Copy Share Image
Sleep is cousin-german unto death: Sleep and death differ, no more, than a carcass And a skeleton. — Thomas Traherne Copy Share Image
The sense itself was I. I felt no dross or matter in my soul, no brims or borders, such as in a bowl we… — Thomas Traherne Copy Share Image
I will not by the noise of bloody wars and the dethroning of kings advance you to glory: but by the gentle ways of… — Thomas Traherne Copy Share Image
You never enjoy the world aright, till the Sea itself flowers in your veins, till you are clothed with the heavens, and crowned with… — Thomas Traherne Copy Share Image
Let those parents that desire Holy Children learn to make them possessors of Heaven and Earth betimes; to remove silly objects from before them,… — Thomas Traherne Copy Share Image
“Love can forbear, and Love can forgive...but Love can never be reconciled to an unlovely object... He can never therefore be reconciled to your… — Thomas Traherne Copy Share Image
You never enjoy the world aright, till the sea itself floweth in your veins, till you are clothed with the heavens and crowned with… — Thomas Traherne Copy Share Image
