Quotes on Life

Truly there is a tide in the affairs of men; but there is no gulf-stream setting forever in one direction.

Love is sunshine, hate is shadow,_x000D_ _x000D_ Life is checkered shade and sunshine.

Learn that the present hour alone is man's.

Nor has he spent his life badly who has passed it in privacy.

That man lives happy and in command of himself, who from day to day can say I have lived. Whether clouds obscure, or the sun illumines the following day, that which is past is beyond recall.

Along the cool sequestered vale of life,_x000D_ _x000D_ They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.

Were the offer made true, I would engage to run again, from beginning to end, the same career of life. All I would ask should be the privilege of an author, to correct, in a second edition, certain errors of the first.

My life is one demd horrid grind.

To know, to esteem, to love,-and then to part,_x000D_ _x000D_ Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart.

Bien predica quien bien vive. _x000D_ He preaches well who lives well.

There is no life of a man, faithfully recorded, but is a heroic poem of its sort, rhymed or unrhymed.

With aching hands and bleeding feet_x000D_ _x000D_ We dig and heap, lay stone on stone;_x000D_ _x000D_ We bear the burden and the heat_x000D_ _x000D_ Of the long day, and wish 'twere done._x000D_ _x000D_ Not till the hours of light return_x000D_ _x000D_ All we have built do we discern.

I count life just a stuff_x000D_ _x000D_ To try the soul's strength on.

O Life! thou art a galling load,_x000D_ _x000D_ Along a rough, a weary road,_x000D_ _x000D_ To wretches such as I!

We are the voices of the wandering wind,_x000D_ _x000D_ Which moan for rest and rest can never find;_x000D_ _x000D_ Lo! as the wind is so is mortal life,_x000D_ _x000D_ A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife.

Saw life steadily and saw it whole.

And by a prudent flight and cunning save_x000D_ _x000D_ A life which valour could not, from the grave._x000D_ _x000D_ A better buckler I can soon regain,_x000D_ _x000D_ But who can get another life again?

Life is not as idle ore,_x000D_ _x000D_ But iron dug from central gloom,_x000D_ _x000D_ And heated hot with burning fears,_x000D_ _x000D_ And dipt in baths of hissing tears,_x000D_ _x000D_ And batter'd with the shocks of doom,_x000D_ _x000D_ To shape and use.

Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,_x000D_ _x000D_ Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,_x000D_ _x000D_ Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;_x000D_ _x000D_ But life, being weary of these worldly bars,_x000D_ _x000D_ Never lacks power to dismiss itself.

Away with funeral music-set_x000D_ _x000D_ The pipe to powerful lips-_x000D_ _x000D_ The cup of life's for him that drinks_x000D_ _x000D_ And not for him that sips.

Had I but died an hour before this chance,_x000D_ _x000D_ I had liv'd a blessed time; for, from this instant,_x000D_ _x000D_ There's nothing serious in mortality:_x000D_ _x000D_ All is but toys; renown, and grace is dead;_x000D_ _x000D_ The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees_x000D_ _x000D_ Is left this vault to brag of.