873 Quotes by William Wordsworth

Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster child, her inmate man, Forget the glories he hath known And that imperial palace whence he came.

Poetry is the outcome of emotions recollected in tranquility.

How fast has brother followed brother, From sunshine to the sunless land!

More skilful in self-knowledge, even more pure,/ As tempted more; more able to endure,/ As more exposed to suffering and distress.

One great society alone on earth: the noble living and the noble dead

Bright was the summer's noon when quickening steps Followed each other till a dreary moor Was crossed, a bare ridge clomb, upon whose top Standing alone, as from a rampart's edge, I overlooked the bed of Windermere, Like a vast river, stretching in the sun.

The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.

He who feels contempt for any living thing hath faculties that he hath never used, and thought with him is in its infancy.

More like a man/ Flying from something that he dreads than one/ Who sought the thing he loved.