Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.

It's better to have tried and failed than to live life wondering what would've happened if I had tried

Though much is taken,
much abides;
and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven,
that which we are,
we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate,
but strong in will To strive,
to seek,
to find,
and not to yield.

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.

We are all a part of every person we have ever met.

Love's arms were wreathed about the neck of Hope, And Hope kiss'd Love,
and Love drew in her breath In that close kiss and drank her whisper'd tales. They said that Love would die when Hope was gone. And Love mourn'd long,
and sorrow'd after Hope; At last she sought out Memory,
and they trod The same old paths where Love had walked with Hope, And Memory fed the soul of Love with tears.

I can't sleep without knowing there's hope.
Half the night I waste in sighs.
In a wakeful doze I sorrow.
For the hands,
for the lips...
the eyes.
For the meeting of tomorrow.

Hope Smiles from the threshold of the year to come,
Whispering 'it will be happier'.

The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.

Knowledge comes,
but wisdom lingers.

Sleep sweetly,
tender heart,
in peace;Sleep,
holy spirit,
blessed soul,While the stars burn,
the moons increase,And the great ages onward roll.
Sleep till the end,
true soul and sweet.
Nothing comes to thee new or strange.
Sleep full of rest from head to feet;Lie still,
dry dust,
secure of change.

...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.

There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming,
my dove,
my dear; She is coming,
my life,
my fate; The red rose cries,
"She is near,
she is near;" And the white rose weeps,
"She is late;" The larkspur listens,
"I hear;
I hear;" And the lily whispers,
"I wait."

the shell must break before the bird can fly.

Ours is not to wonder why.
Ours is just to do or die.

Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,
Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.

if you don't concentrate on what you are doing then the thing that you are doing is not what you are thinking.

God gives us love! Something to love He lends us;
but when love is grown To ripeness,
that on which it throve Falls off,
and love is left alone: This is the curse of time.

In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.

Rain,
rain,
and sun! A rainbow in the sky!

Nor is it wiser to weep a true occasion lost,
but trim our sails,
and let old bygones be.

And men,
whose reason long was blind,
From cells of madness unconfined,
Oft lose whole years of darker mind.

For I dipped into the future,
far as human eye could see,
Saw the Vision of the world,
and all the wonder that would be.

But for the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies; The sad mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics numbing pain.

I am a part of all that I have met.

She left the web,
she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott.

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world,
he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

It is the little rift within the lute That by and by will make the music mute,
And ever widening slowly silence all.

That man's the best cosmopolite Who loves his native country best.

Never,
oh! never,
nothing will die;
The stream flows,
The wind blows,
The cloud fleets,
The heart beats,
Nothing will die.

So sad,
so fresh the days that are no more.

Half a league,
half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

As she fled fast through sun and shade The happy winds upon her play'd,
Blowing the ringlet from the braid.

Willows whiten,
aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver.

I loved you,
and my love had no return, And therefore my true love has been my death.

Self-reverence,
self-knowledge,
self-control;
these three alone lead one to sovereign power.

To strive,
to seek,
to find,
and not to yield.

A lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies.

All experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untravelled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move.

No man ever got very high by pulling other people down.
The intelligent merchant does not knock his competitors.
The sensible worker does not work those who work with him.
Don't knock your friends.
Don't knock your enemies.
Don't knock yourself.

Speak to Him,
thou,
for He hears,
and Spirit with Spirit can meet- Closer is He than breathing,
and nearer than hands and feet.

I must lose myself in action,
lest I wither in despair.

So many worlds,
so much to do,
so little done,
such things to be.

Words,
like nature,
half reveal and half conceal the soul within.

All experience is an arch wherethro' gleams that untraveled world whose margins fade forever and forever as we move.

My strength is as the strength of ten,
because my heart is pure.

Battering the gates of heaven with the storms of prayer.

Sweet is true love that is given in vain,
and sweet is death that takes away pain.