Robert Browning citáty

strana 6

„Vím určitě, že radši budu snášet trpkou a bolestivou smrt, než abych připustil mučení jediného psa nebo kočky, jen abych byl ušetřen bolesti.“

„Zamilovaný je ten, kdo je ochoten vsadit vše do hry lásky bez záruky na štěstí.“

„Nejcitlivěji býváme zraněni těmi, bez nichž si svůj život nedovedeme v plném rozsahu představit.“

„Nikoliv láska, ale plodnost je ten největší zázrak přírody.“

„Zestárni se mnou!
Neboť to nejlepší nás teprve čeká.
příští dny budou naplněním předešlých…“

„Moje slunce zapadá, aby vyšlo znovu.“

„Člověk má jít za obzor svých možností, od čeho má nebesa?“

„Mým úkolem není se předělat, ale vytvořit naprosto nejlepší věc z toho, co stvořil bůh.“

„Láska musí být hra vášní. Pokud je to jenom vášeň, je utrpením.“

„V každé lásce k druhému je přes polovinu sebelásky.“

“Say not "a small event!" Why "small"?
Costs it more pain that this ye call
A "great event" should come to pass
From that? Untwine me from the mass
Of deeds which make up life, one deed
Power shall fall short in or exceed!”

“For life, with all it yields of joy and woe,
And hope and fear (believe the aged friend),
Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love,—
How love might be, hath been indeed, and is.”

“What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up,
And be discharged, and straight wound up anew?
No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets:
May learn a thousand things, not twice the same.”

“Jove strikes the Titans down
Not when they set about their mountain-piling
But when another rock would crown the work.”

“I judge people by what they might be,—not are, nor will be.”

“The sin I impute to each frustrute ghost
Is—the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin,
Though the end in sight was a vice, I say.”

“The lie was dead
And damned, and truth stood up instead.”

“Ah, did you once see Shelley plain,
And did he stop and speak to you,
And did you speak to him again?
How strange it seems, and new!”

“What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?”

“Progress is
The law of life: man is not Man as yet.”

“Only I discern
Infinite passion, and the pain
Of finite hearts that yearn.”

“Was never evening yet
But seemed far beautifuller than its day.”

“God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance,
Rests never on the track until it reach”

“Fear death?—to feel the fog in my throat,
The mist in my face.
.......
No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers,
The heroes of old;
Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears”

“So may a glory from defect arise.”

“One who never turned his back but marched breast forward,
Never doubted clouds would break,
Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph,
Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better,
Sleep to wake.”

“All service ranks the same with God,—
With God, whose puppets, best and worst,
Are we: there is no last nor first.”

“It's wiser being good than bad;
It's safer being meek than fierce;
It's fitter being sane than mad.
My own hope is, a sun will pierce
The thickest cloud earth ever stretched;
That after Last returns the First,
Though a wide compass round be fetched;
That what began best can't end worst,
Nor what God blessed once prove accurst.”

“Strive and thrive!”

“Deeds let escape are never to be done.”

“Error has no end.”

“Forgive me this digression — that I stand
Entranced awhile at Law's first beam, outbreak
O' the business, when the Count's good angel bade
"Put up thy sword, born enemy to the ear,
"And let Law listen to thy difference!"”

“That low man seeks a little thing to do,
Sees it and does it.
This high man, with a great thing to pursue,
Dies ere he knows it.
That low man goes on adding one to one,—
His hundred's soon hit;
This high man, aiming at a million,
Misses an unit.
That has the world here—should he need the next,
Let the world mind him!
This throws himself on God, and unperplexed
Seeking shall find him.”

“I do what many dream of, all their lives,
— Dream? strive to do, and agonize to do,
And fail in doing. I could count twenty such
On twice your fingers, and not leave this town,
Who strive — you don't know how the others strive
To paint a little thing like that you smeared
Carelessly passing with your robes afloat —
Yet do much less, so much less, Someone says,
(I know his name, no matter) — so much less!
Well, less is more, Lucrezia: I am judged.
There burns a truer light of God in them,
In their vexed beating stuffed and stopped-up brain,
Heart, or whate'er else, than goes on to prompt
This low-pulsed forthright craftsman's hand of mine.”

“Say not "a small event!"”

“But, gathering in its ancient market-place,
Talked group with restless group; and not a face
But wrath made livid, for among them were
Death's staunch purveyors, such as have in care
To feast him. Fear had long since taken root
In every breast, and now these crushed its fruit,
The ripe hate, like a wine: to note the way
It worked while each grew drunk! men grave and grey
Stood, with shut eyelids, rocking to and fro.
Letting the silent luxury trickle slow
About the hollows where a heart should be;
But the young gulped with a delirious glee
Some foretaste of their first debauch in blood
At the fierce news”

“As if true pride
Were not also humble!”

“He said true things, but called them by the wrong names.”