Women know the way to rear up children (to be just). They know a simple, merry, tender knack of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, and stringing pretty words that make no sense. And kissing full sense into empty words.
It is not merely the likeness which is precious... but the association and the sense of nearness involved in the thing... the fact of the very shadow of the person lying there fixed forever! It is the very sanctification of portraits I think - and it is not at all monstrous in me to say that I would rather have such a memorial of one I dearly loved, than the noblest Artist's work ever produced.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The true value of a portrait lies in the emotional connection and memory it evokes, rather than its artistic quality.
In this quote, Elizabeth Barrett Browning articulates the deep emotional significance attached to portraits, suggesting that it is not simply the visual likeness that matters, but the memories, associations, and emotions they represent. She expresses a preference for a personal memorial that embodies her love for someone over a masterpiece by a renowned artist, emphasizing that personal connections hold greater value than artistic achievements.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a heartfelt speech at a memorial service, one might use this quote to emphasize the importance of personal connections.
More from Elizabeth Barrett Browning
All quotes →She has seen the mystery hid Under Egypt's pyramid: By those eyelids pale and close Now she knows what Rhamses knows.
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.
Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God: But only he who sees takes off his shoes.
Our Euripides the human, With his droppings of warm tears, and his touchings of things common Till they rose to meet the spheres.
Love me sweet With all thou art Feeling, thinking, seeing; Love me in the Lightest part, Love me in full Being.
Similar quotes
She is a mortal danger without meaning to be one; she's exquisite without giving ita thought; shes a trap set by nature, a rose in which love lies in ambush! Anyone who has seen her smile has known perfection. She creates grace without movement and makes all divinity fit into her slightest gesture. And neither Venus in her shell, nor Diana striding in the great, blossoming forest, can compare to her when she goes through the streets of paris in her sedan chair.
But love is blind and lovers cannot see
My love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity, ~ Hazel Lancaster.
Let this be my last word, that I trust in thy love.
True love makes the thought of death frequent, easy, without terrors; it merely becomes the standard of comparison, the price one would pay for many things.
Love is universal migraine, A bright stain on the vision Blotting out reason. Symptoms of true love Are leanness, jealousy, Laggard dawns; Are omens and nightmares - Listening for a knock, Waiting for a sign: For a touch of her fingers In a darkened room, For a searching look. Take courage, lover! Could you endure such pain At any hand but hers?