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Quotes of the day: William Wordsworth
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Published Monday, April 07, 2014 @ 5:26 AM EDT
Apr 07 2014

William Wordsworth (April 6, 1770 – April 23, 1850) was a major English Romantic poet who, with Samuel Taylor Coleridge, helped to launch the Romantic Age in English literature with the 1798 joint publication Lyrical Ballads. (Click here for full Wikipedia article)

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A multitude of causes unknown to former times are now acting with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and unfitting it for all voluntary exertion to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor.

Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher.

Faith is a passionate intuition.

And he is oft the wisest man
Who is not wise at all.

For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.

Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.

Life is divided into three terms - that which was, which is, and which will be. Let us learn from the past to profit by the present, and from the present to live better in the future.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.

Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark,
And shares the nature of infinity.

That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.

And yet the wiser mind
Mourns less for what age takes away
Than what it leaves behind.

What is pride?- a whizzing rocket
That would emulate a star.

Wisdom is oft-times nearer when we stoop
Than when we soar.

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!

Men do not make their homes unhappy because they have genius, but because they have not enough genius; a mind and sentiments of a higher order would render them capable of seeing and feeling all the beauty of domestic ties.

Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.

What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
Into a Lover's head!

To the solid ground Of Nature trusts the mind which builds for aye.


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