Ella Wheeler Wilcox Quotes - Page 3

Talk happiness. The world is sad enough without your woe. No path is wholly rough.

No question is ever settled until it is settled right.

Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it.

That each sorrow has its purpose, By the sorrowing oft unguessed, But as sure as the sun brings morning, Whatever is-is best.

The man who radiates good cheer, who makes life happier wherever he meets it, is always a man of vision and faith.

Love is the centre and circumference; The cause and aim of all things--'tis the key To joy and sorrow, and the recompense For all the ills that have been, or may be.

Love is a spy who is plotting treason, In league with that warm, red rebel, the Heart.

When we tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new. This restless craving in the souls of men spurs them to climb, and to seek the mountain view.

I detect more good than evil in humanity. Love lights more fires than hate extinguishes, And men grow better as the world grows old.

Life is too short for any vain regretting... Between the swift sun's rising and its setting, we have no time for useless tears or fretting, life is too short.... Time is the best avenger if we wait, the years speed by, and on their wings bear healing, life is too short for aught but high endeavor-too short for spite, but long enough for love. And love lives on forever and forever.

Do you wish the world were better? Let me tell you what to do: Set a watch upon your actions, Keep them always straight and true.

... love moves the world along.

I'm sorry for the anguished hearts that break with passion's strain, But I'm sorrier for the poor starved souls that never knew love's pain, Who hunger on through barren years not tasting joys they crave, For sadder far is such a lot than weeping o'er a grave.

I think of death as some delightful journey that I shall take when all my tasks are done.

Love gives us copious potions of delight, Of pain and ecstasy, and peace and care; Love leads us upward, to the mountain height, And, like an angel, stands beside us there; Then thrusts us, demon-like, in some abyss: Where, in the darkness of despair, we grope, Till, suddenly, Love greets us with a kiss And guides us back to flowery fields of hope.

Love is the impulse which directs the world, And all things know it and obey its power. Man, in the maelstrom of his passions whirled; The bee that takes the pollen to the flower; The earth, uplifting her bare, pulsing breast To fervent kisses of the amorous sun;-- Each but obeys creative Love's behest, Which everywhere instinctively is done.

When the heart grows weary, all things seem dreary; When the burden grows heavy, the way seems long. Thank God for sending kind death as an ending, Like a grand Amen to a minor song.

Give thy love freely, do not count the cost: So beautiful a thing was never lost.

Back on its golden hinges The gate of Memory swings, And my heart goes into the garden And walks with the olden things.

For every hour of pain I have had a day of pleasure. For every moment of worry, an hour of content.

O skies, be calm! O winds, blow free - Blow all my ships safe home to me! But if thou sendest some a-wrack, To never more come sailing back, Send any - all that skim the sea, But bring my love-ship home to me.

It stands in the light transfigured, It speaks from the heights above, "Each Soul Is Its Own Redeemer; There Is No Law But Love."

Content is not the pathway to great deeds.

There is nothing ridiculous in love.

You never can tell when you send a word, Like an arrow shot from a bow By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind, Just where it may chance to go!