37 Quotes by Bryan Procter

So mightiest powers buy deepest calms are fed, And sleep, how oft, in things that gentlest be!

Pity speaks to grief more sweetly than a band of instruments.

In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower, The spectral Owl doth dwell; Dull, hated, despised, in the sunshine hour, But at the dusk--he's abroad and well! Not a bird of the forest e'er mates with him-- All mock him outright, by day: But at night, when the woods grow still and dim, The boldest will shrink away! O, when the night falls, and roosts the fowl, Then, then, is the reign of the Horned Owl!

Despair doth strike as deep a furrow in the brain as mischief or remorse.

Women are so gentle, so affectionate, so true in sorrow, so untired and untiring! but the leaf withers not sooner, and tropic light fades not more abruptly.

The progress from infancy to boyhood is imperceptible. In that long dawn of the mind we take but little heed. The years pass by us, one by one, little distinguishable from each other. But when the intellectual sun of our life is risen, we take due note of joy and sorrow.

Gamaun is a dainty steed, Strong, black, and of a noble breed, Full of fire, and full of bone, With all his line of fathers known; Fine his nose, his nostrils thin, But blown abroad by the pride within; His mane is like a river flowing, And his eyes like embers glowing In the darkness of the night, And his pace as swift as light.

Not the rich viol, trump, cymbal, nor horn, Guitar, nor cittern, nor the pining flute, Are half so sweet as tender human words.

Enter upon thy paths, O year! Thy paths, which all who breathe must tread, Which lead the Living to the Dead, I enter; for it is my doom To tread thy labyrinthine gloom; To note who round me watch and wait; To love a few; perhaps to hate; And do all duties of my fate.