403 Quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Hurt a fly! He would not for the world: he's pitiful to flies even. Sing, says he, and tease me still, if that's your way, poor insect.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose / With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath, / Smiles, tears, of all of my life! and, if God / choose / I shall but love thee better after death.

Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed / And worthy of acceptation / Fire is bright, / Let temple burn, or flax / an equal light / Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed.

I love thee—in thy sight / I stand transfigured, glorified aright / With conscience of the new rays that proceedOut of my face toward thine.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. / I love thee to the depth and breadth and height / My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight / For the ends of Being and ideal Grace... / I love thee with the breath, / Smiles, tears, of all my life!— and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

The ocean-eagle soared / From his nest by the white wave's foam, / And the rocking pines of the forest roared — / This was their welcome home!

Only I discern / Infinite passion, and the pain / of finite hearts that yearn.