Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive, half wishing they were dead to save the shame. The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow; They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats, and flare up bodily, wings and all. What then? Who’s sorry for a gnat or girl?
Category Archive: Elizabeth Barrett Browning
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And, ever since, it grew more clean and white.
Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
The Greeks said grandly in their tragic phrase, ‘Let no one be called happy till his death;’ to which I would add, ‘Let no one, till his death, be called unhappy.’
If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love’s sake only.
But the child’s sob curses deeper in the silence than the strong man in his wrath!
He said true things, but called them by wrong names.
What is genius but the power of expressing a new individuality?
And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.
World’s use is cold, world’s love is vain, world’s cruelty is bitter bane; but is not the fruit of pain.