Eternity.Thy name Or glad, or fearful, we pronounce, as thoughts Wandering in darkness shape thee. Thou strange being, Which art and must… — Anna Letitia Barbauld Copy Share Image
I will drop into your chest like a vegetal ambrosia. I will be the grain that regenerates the cruelly plowed furrow. Poetry… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
I'll be looking for you, Will, every moment, every single moment. And when we do find each other again, we'll cling together… — Philip Pullman Copy Share Image
Mont Blanc yet gleams on high: the power is there, The still and solemn power of many sights And many sounds, and… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
And thou, who didst the stars and sunbeams know, Self-school'd, self-scann'd, self-honour'd, self-secure, Didst tread on earth unguess'd at. Better so! All… — Matthew Arnold Copy Share Image
Futility Move him into the sun - Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields unsown. Always it woke… — Wilfred Owen Copy Share Image
In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, like cottages under drifts, whose windows and doors… — Henry David Thoreau Copy Share Image
The town was glad with morning light; places that had shown ugly and distrustful all night long, now wore a smile; and… — Charles Dickens Copy Share Image
You see, proteins, as I probably needn't tell you, are immensely complicated groupings of amino acids and certain other specialized compounds, arranged… — Isaac Asimov Copy Share Image
As our mother earth is a mere speck in the sunbeam in the illimitable universe, so man himself is but a tiny… — Ernst Haeckel Copy Share Image
Happiness is a sunbeam which may pass through a thousand bosoms without losing a particle of its original ray; nay, when it… — Jane Porter Copy Share Image
The universe is a vast system of exchange. Every artery of it is in motion, throbbing with reciprocity, from the planet to… — Edwin Hubbel Chapin Copy Share Image
It was hopeless. She was flawless. She was a sunbeam. Mosca gave up and got on with hating her. — Frances Hardinge Copy Share Image
I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image