Pine Quotes - page 4
Is it the lumberman, then, who is the friend and lover of the pine, stands nearest to it, and understands its nature best Is it the tanner who has barked it, or he who has boxed it for turpentine, whom posterity will fable to have been changed into a pine at last No no it is the poet he it is who makes the truest use of the pine-who does not fondle it with an axe, nor tickle it with a saw, nor stroke it with a plane....
Henry David Thoreau
Books are the true levelers. They give to all who will faithfully use them the society, the spiritual presence, of the best and greatest of our race. No matter how poor I am. No matter though the prosperous of my own time will not enter my obscure dwelling. If the Sacred Writers will enter and take up their abode under my roof, ... I shall not pine for want of intellectual companionship, and I may become a cultivated man though excluded from what is called the best society in the place where I live.
William Ellery Channing
I can conceive no punishment so dreadful as keeping perpetual watch on our words, lest they betray what they mean to conceal; to know no unguarded moment - no careless gaiety - to pine for the confidence which yet we dare not bestow - to tremble, lest that some hidden meaning lurk in a phrase which only our own sickly fancy could torture into bearing such - to have suspicion become a second nature - and to shrink every morning from the glad sunshine, for we know not what a day may bring forth : the wheel of Ixion were a tender mercy compared to such a state.
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Autumn was falling, but the pine
Seem'd as it mock'd all change; no sign
Of season on its leaf was seen,
The same dark gloom of changeless green.
But like the gorgeous Persian bands
'Mid the stern race of northern lands,
The chesnut boughs were bright with all
That gilds and mocks the autumn's fall.
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
To love, to be beloved again, and know
A gulf between us:-aye, 'tis misery!
This agony of passion, this wild faith,
Whose constancy is fruitless, yet is kept
Inviolate:-to feel that all life's hope,
And light, and treasure, clings to one from whom
Our wayward doom divides us. Better far
To weep o'er treachery or broken vows,-
For time may teach their worthlessness:-or pine
With unrequited love;-there is a pride
In the fond sacrifice-the cheek may lose
Its summer crimson; but at least the rose
Has withered secretly-at least, the heart
That has been victim to its tenderness,
Has sighed unechoed by some one as true,
As wretched as itself.
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
I know a lovely little flower, a flower for which I pine -
I would go gather it, but bars my heavy hours confine;
Oh, grief, when free, how easily that little flower was mine !
. . .
Oh, were I sinking to the grave I often ask in vain,
And welcome Death stood by to loose the wasted captive's chain -
Ah, name me the Forget-me-not, I'd wake to life again!
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Full little knowest thou that hast not tride,
What hell it is in suing long to bide:
To loose good dayes, that might be better spent;
To wast long nights in pensive discontent;
To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow;
To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow.
.........
To fret thy soule with crosses and with cares;
To eate thy heart through comfortlesse dispaires; 13
To fawne, to crowche, to waite, to ride, to ronne,
To spend, to give, to want, to be undonne.
Unhappie wight, borne to desastrous end,
That doth his life in so long tendance spend!
Edmund Spenser
