Quotes to inspire and reflect

Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others, cannot keep it from themselves.

Man’s mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions.

The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it.

Start by doing what's necessary; then do what's possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.

We are not amused.

 

He speaks to Me as if I was a public meeting.

 

We are not interested in the possibilities of defeat; they do not exist.

 

I will be good.

 

Precious … My Precious!

 

Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.

 

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them

 

Never laugh at live dragons.

 

What has it got in its pocketses?

 

That which we are, we are;

 

A louse in the locks of literature.

 

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:

 

Death closes all: but something ere the end,

 

Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough

 

To follow knowledge like a sinking star,

 

Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.

 

I am become a name;

 

It little profits that an idle king,

 

The gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.

 

The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,

 

Alone and warming his five wits,

 

And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea,

 

My strength is as the strength of ten,

 

At Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay.

 

The moan of doves in immemorial elms,

 

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,

 

Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,

 

Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;

 

Like summer tempest came her tears.

 

Dear as remembered kisses after death.

 

Home they brought her warrior dead.

 

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,

 

O sweet and far from cliff and scar

 

Sweet and low, sweet and low,

 

The splendour falls on castle walls

 

With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans,

 

God-gifted organ-voice of England,

 

After it, follow it,

 

She is coming, my dove, my dear;

 

I hate that dreadful hollow behind the little wood.

 

Come into the garden, Maud,

 

Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,

 

Death is the end of life; ah, why

 

Science moves, but slowly slowly, creeping on from point to point.