Robert Browning image
star fullstar fullstar fullstar fullstar null

Born in May 7, 1812 / Died in December 12, 1889 / United Kingdom / English

Quotes by Robert Browning

God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.
Why comes temptation but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph?
Every one soon or late comes round by Rome.
Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beast's; God is, they are, Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be.
But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, to dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, and baffled, get up and begin again.
Measure your mind's height by the shade it casts.
Oh, the little more, and how much it is! And the little less, and what worlds away.
Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character.
A face to lose youth for, to occupy age With the dream of, meet death with.
On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.
Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.
Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure.
Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.
Tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what man Would do!
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land, Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
Better have failed in the high aim, as I, Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed As, God be thanked! I do not.
It is the glory and good of Art, That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truth, to mouths like mine at least.
No, when the fight begins within himself, A man's worth something.
All June I bound the rose in sheaves, Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves.
Man partly is and wholly hopes to be.
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture!
Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!
Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.
My sun sets to rise again.
Grow old with me! The best is yet to be.