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William C. Bryant quotes (22)

A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.
William C. Bryant   Category:

A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.
William C. Bryant   Category:

All that tread, the globe are but a handful to the tribes, that slumber in its bosom.
William C. Bryant   Category:

And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.
William C. Bryant   Category:

Difficulty, my brethren, is the nurse of greatness - a harsh nurse, who roughly rocks her foster - children into strength and athletic proportion.
William C. Bryant   Category:

Eloquence is the poetry of prose.
William C. Bryant   Category:

Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings.
William C. Bryant   Category:

Loveliest of lovely things are they on earth that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
William C. Bryant   Category:

Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.
William C. Bryant   Category:

Poetry is that art which selects and arranges the symbols of thought in such a manner as to excite the imagination the most powerfully and delightfully.
William C. Bryant   Category:

Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness.
William C. Bryant   Category:

The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within.
William C. Bryant   Category:

The groves were God's first temples.
William C. Bryant   Category: Nature

The little windflower, whose just opened eye is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.
William C. Bryant   Category:

The moon is at her full, and riding high, Floods the calm fields with light. The airs that hover in the summer sky Are all asleep to-night.
William C. Bryant   Category:

There is no glory in star or blossom till looked upon by a loving eye; There is no fragrance in April breezes till breathed with joy as they wander by.
William C. Bryant   Category:

Thine eyes are springs in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen. Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook.
William C. Bryant   Category:

To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language.
William C. Bryant   Category:

Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger.
William C. Bryant   Category:

Weep not that the world changes - did it keep a stable, changeless state, it were cause indeed to weep.
William C. Bryant   Category:

Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find the perfumes thou dost bring?
William C. Bryant   Category:

Winning isn't everything, but it beats anything in second place.
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