Robert Browning Quotes

What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew

Man's reach should exceed his grasp or what's a heaven for?

Your children are not dead. They are just waiting until the world deserves them.

My sun sets to rise again.

Love is the energy of life.

Less is more.

Ah but a man's reach should exceed his grasp or what's a heaven for?

Autumn wins you best by this: its mute Appeal to sympathy for its decay.

The gray sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low: And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow,And quench its speed i’ the slushy sand.

When a man's busy leisure strikes him as a wonderful pleasure and at leisure once is he? Straightway he wants to be busy.

Grow old with me! The best is yet to be The last of life for which the first was made: Our times are in his hands Who sayeth "a whole I plant Youth shows but half Trust God see all nor be afraid."

So free we seem so fettered fast we are!

There is an inmost center in us all, where truth abides in fullness;....and, to know, rather consists in opening out a way where the imprisoned splendor may escape, then in effecting entry for a light supposed to be without.

Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be.

I was made and meant to look for you and wait for you and become yours forever.

Days decrease, / And autumn grows, autumn in everything.

The rain set early in tonight,The sullen wind was soon awake,It tore the elm-tops down for spite,And did its best to vex the lake:I listened with heart fit to break.When glided in Porphyria; straightShe shut the cold out and the storm,And kneeled and made the cheerless grateBlaze up and all the cottage warm;

Man partly is and wholly hopes to be.

Grow old along with me--the best is yet to be,

In this world, who can do a thing, will not;And who would do it, cannot, I perceive:Yet the will's somewhat — somewhat, too, the power —And thus we half-men struggle.

The power of the night, the press of the storm, the post of the foe; where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, yet, the strong man must go.

Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,One task more declin'd, one more foot-path ontrod,One more devil's triumph and sorrow for angels,One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!

T'were too absurd to slight for the hereafter the day's delight!

Why stay we on earth except to grow?

Take away love and our earth is a tomb.

Who hears music, feels his solitudePeopled at once.

When pain ends gain ends too.

When the fight begins within himself a man's worth something.

Without love, our earth is a tomb

Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,Or what's a heaven for?

A minute’s success pays the failure of years.

Make us happy and you make us good.

Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,  One task more declined, one more footpath untrod,One more devils’-triumph and sorrow for angels,  One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!

Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.

Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character

Best be yourself, imperial, plain, and true.

I... know what I do and am unmoved by men's blame or their praise either.

A lion may die of an ass's kick.

God’s in His heaven—All’s right with the world!

Strike when thou wilt the hour of rest but let my last days be my best.

how sad and bad and mad it was - but then, how it was sweet

Any noseMay ravage with impunity a rose.

Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made ...