Jean Ingelow Quotes

A healthful hunger for a great idea is the beauty and blessedness of life.

I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.

The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon.

I am glad to think I am not bound to make the world go right, but only to discover and to do, with cheerful heart, the work that God appoints.

Man is the miracle in nature. God Is the One Miracle to man.

I have lived life long enough to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered

It is not reason which makes faith hard, but life.

we wish for more in life rather than more of it.

O sleep, we are beholden to thee, sleep; Thou bearest angels to us in the night, Saints out of heaven with palms. Seen by thy light Sorrow is some old tale that goeth not deep; Love is a pouting child.

Children bring their own love with them when they come.

I don't want to die. But I want to be dead.

It is a comely fashion to be glad; Joy is the grace we say to God.

When sparrows build and the leaves break forth My old sorrow wakes and cries.

What is thy thought? There is no miracle? There is a great one, which thou hast not read, And never shalt escape. Thyself, O man, Thou art the miracle. Ay, thou thyself, Being in the world and of the world, thyself, Hast breathed in breath from Him that made the world. Thou art thy Father's copy of Himself,-- Thou art thy Father's miracle.

Tears are the showers that fertilize this world.

I am athirst for God, the living God.

Yet there are some resting-places, / Life's untroubled interludes; / Times when neither past nor future / On the soul's deep calm intrudes.

What change has made the pastures sweet And reached the daisies at my feet, And cloud that wears a golden hem? This lovely world, the hills, the sward-- They all look fresh, as if our Lord But yesterday had finished them.

Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side.

I opened the doors of my heart. And behold, There was music within and a song, And echoes did feed on the sweetness, repeating it long. I opened the doors of my heart. And behold, There was music that played itself out in aeolian notes: Then was heard, as a far-away bell at long intervals tolled.

When I remember something which I had, But which is gone, and I must do without, I sometimes wonder how I can be glad, Even in cowslip time when hedges sprout; It makes me sigh to think on it,--but yet My days will not be better days, should I forget.

I wish, and I wish that the spring would go faster, Nor long summer bide so late; And I could grow on like the foxglove and aster, For some things are ill to wait.

From henceforth thou shalt learn that there is love To long for, pureness to desire, a mount Of consecration it were good to scale.

There is but halting for the wearied foot; The better way is hidden. Faith hath failed; One stronger far than reason mastered her. It is not reason makes faith hard, but life.

O sleep! O sleep! Do not forget me. Sometimes come and sweep, Now I have nothing left, thy healing hand Over the lids that crave thy visits bland, Thou kind, thou comforting one. For I have seen his face, as I desired, And all my story is done. O, I am tired.