A place has almost the shyness of a person, with strangers; and its secret is not to be surprised by a too… — Arthur Symons Direct Copy Share Image
My life is like a music-hall,Where, in the impotence of rage,Chained by enchantment to my stall,I see myself upon the stageDance to… — Arthur Symons Chained Copy Share Image
The clamours of spring are the same old delicate noises, The earth renews its magical youth at a breath. — Arthur Symons Breaths Copy Share Image
Without charm there can be no fine literature, as there can be no perfect flower without fragrance. — Arthur Symons Books Copy Share Image
I know the woman has no soul, I know The woman has no possibilities Of soul or mind or heart, but merely… — Arthur Symons Adore Copy Share Image
God, like all highest things, Hides light in shade, And in the night his visitings To sleep and dreams are clearliest made. — Arthur Symons Dream Copy Share Image
A realist, in Venice, would become a romantic by mere faithfulness to what he saw before him. — Arthur Symons Faithfulness Copy Share Image
The English mist is always at work like a subtle painter, and London is a vast canvas prepared for the mist to… — Arthur Symons Canvas Copy Share Image
I had my dreams of Venice, but nothing that I had dreamed was as impossible as what I found. — Arthur Symons Dream Copy Share Image
Hardly any one is able to see what is before him, just as it is in itself. He comes expecting one thing,… — Arthur Symons Able Copy Share Image
Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses? How soft is this one, how subtle this is, How fluttering swift… — Arthur Symons Bird Copy Share Image
A place has almost a shyness of a person with strangers; its secret is not to be surprised by too direct interrogation. — Arthur Symons Direct Copy Share Image
Love is a flaming heart, and its flames aspire / Till they cloud the soul in the smoke of a windy fire. — Arthur Symons Aspire Copy Share Image
The wind is rising on the sea,The windy white foam-dancers leap;And the sea moans uneasily,And turns to sleep, and cannot sleep. — Arthur Symons Dancer Copy Share Image
As perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you, remaining Deeply folded in my brain,… — Arthur Symons All things Copy Share Image
Art begins when a man wishes to immortalize the most vivid moment he has ever lived. — Arthur Symons Art Copy Share Image
What we ask of him is, that he should find out for us more than we can find out for ourselves... He… — Arthur Symons Asks Copy Share Image
“Love I never associated with the senses, it was not even passion that I wanted; it was a conscious, subtle, elaborate sensuality,… — Arthur Symons Love Copy Share Image
“Wandering, ever wandering, Because life holds not anything so good As to be free of yesterday, and bound Towards a new to-morrow… — Arthur Symons Freedom Copy Share Image
But we have been taught to see before our eyes have found out a way of seeing for themselves. — Arthur Symons Awe Copy Share Image
I have laid sorrow to sleep;Love sleeps.She who oft made me weepNow weeps. — Arthur Symons Grief Copy Share Image
Here in a little lonely room I am master of earth and sea, And the planets come to me. — Arthur Symons Earth Copy Share Image
