William Wordsworth
England
7 Apr 1770 // 23 Apr 1850
Poet
7 Apr 1770 // 23 Apr 1850
Poet
Quotes
Scorn not the sonnet. Critic, you have frowned,
Mindless of its just honours; with this key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart.
Mindless of its just honours; with this key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart.
And when a damp
Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand
The thing became a trumpet; whence he blew
Soul-animating strains, alas! too few.
Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand
The thing became a trumpet; whence he blew
Soul-animating strains, alas! too few.
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On Anger: "For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind."
Essays
Essays
On Destiny: "Our destiny exercises its influence over us even when, as yet, we have not learned its nature: it is our future that lays down the law of our today."
Human, All Too Human
Human, All Too Human
On Friendship: "A crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love."
Essays
Essays