The best portion of a good man's life is his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
Interpretation
A good man's greatest contributions often go unnoticed and uncelebrated.
William Wordsworth emphasizes that the true essence of a person's life lies not in grand gestures but in the small, everyday acts of kindness and love that often remain unrecognized. These simple, genuine expressions of care reflect the depth of character and the impact one can have on the lives of others without seeking acknowledgment.
In practice
This quote can be shared at a volunteer event to inspire others to contribute selflessly.
For mightier far_x000D_ _x000D_ Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway_x000D_ _x000D_ Of magic potent over sun and star,_x000D_ _x000D_ Is love, though oft to agony distrest,_x000D_ _x000D_ And though his favourite be feeble woman's breast.
By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,_x000D_ _x000D_ The earth, and every common sight,_x000D_ _x000D_ To me did seem_x000D_ _x000D_ Apparelled in celestial light,_x000D_ _x000D_ The glory and the freshness of a dream.
Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune.
Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
Learn how to read the love letters sent by the wind and rain, the snow and moon.
And in this passion for understanding her soul lay close to his; she had him all to herself. But he must be made abstract first.
It was there, in particular, that I confirmed the truth that love, which we cry up as the source of our pleasures, is nothing more than an excuse for them.
When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Oh, if it be to choose and call thee mine, love, thou art every day my Valentine!
No one can deal with the hearts of men unless he has the sympathy which is given by love.
Subscribe for the occasional hand-picked quote. No noise.