“The soul is but senses catching fire, Marvellous music of the body's lyre, - The angel senses are the silver strings Stirred by the breath of some unknown desire.” — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share
The soul's a sort of sentimental wife, That prays and whimpers of the higher life. — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
Celestial spirit that doth roll; The heart's sepulchral stone away, Be this our resurrection day, The singing Easter of the soul -… — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
We also maintain - again with perfect truth - that mystery is more than half of beauty, the element of strangeness that stirs the… — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
If Romeo and Juliet make a tragedy of it nowadays, they have only to blame their own mismanagement, for the world is with them… — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
“What long-dead face makes here the grass so green? On what earth-buried bosom do we lean? Ah! love, when we in turn are grass… — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
All wines are by their very nature full of reminiscence, the golden tears and red blood of summers that are gone. — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
On the contrary, woman is the best equipped fighting machine that ever went to battle. — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
A wholesome oblivion of one's neighbours is the beginning of wisdom. — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
“If in this shadowland of life thou hast Found one true heart to love thee, hold it fast; Love it again, give all to… — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
More and more the world is growing to love a lover, and one has only to read the newspapers to see how sympathetic are… — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
Modern science, then, so far from being an enemy of romance, is seen on every hand to be its sympathetic and resourceful friend, its… — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
All myths that are something more than fancies gain rather than lose in value with time, by reason of the accretions of human experience. — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
We are all treading the vanishing road of a song in the air, the vanishing road of the spring flowers and the winter snows,… — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
“Were I a woman, I would all day long Sing my own beauty in some holy song, Bend low before it, hushed and half… — Richard Le Gallienne Copy Share Image
