Elizabeth Barrett Browning Quotes About Morning
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Yes, I answered you last night; No, this morning, sir, I say: Colors seen by candle-light Will not look the same by day.
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Nor myrtle--which means chiefly love: and love Is something awful which one dare not touch So early o' mornings.
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Books, books, books! I had found the secret of a garret room Piled high with cases in my father’s name; Piled high, packed large,--where, creeping in and out Among the giant fossils of my past, Like some small nimble mouse between the ribs Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there At this or that box, pulling through the gap, In heats of terror, haste, victorious joy, The first book first. And how I felt it beat Under my pillow, in the morning’s dark, An hour before the sun would let me read! My books!
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A good neighbor sometimes cuts your morning up to mince-meat of the very smallest talk, then helps to sugar her bohea at night with your reputation.
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