Quotes by Lying A lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies. Alfred Lord Tennyson deceittruthlying Oh for someone with a heart, head and hand. Whatever they call them, what do I care, aristocrat, democrat, autocrat, just be it one that can rule and dare not lie. Alfred Lord Tennyson honestytruthlying I am going a long way With these thou seëst-if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)- To the island-valley of Avilion, Where falls not hail or rain or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound. Alfred Lord Tennyson summerhappinesslying Come not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save. There let the wind sweep and the plover cry; But thou, go by. Child, if it were thine error or thy crime I care no longer, being all unblest; Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of Time, And I desire to rest. Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie: Go by, go by. Alfred Lord Tennyson timelyingchildren That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight. Alfred Lord Tennyson fightingmaylying He that shuts love out, in turn shall be Shut out from love, and on her threshold lie, Howling in outer darkness. Alfred Lord Tennyson sadlovelying Full knee-deep lies the winter snow, Alfred Lord Tennyson church-bellswinterlying Ah, when shall all men's good Alfred Lord Tennyson menpeacelying There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro' the moss the ivies creep, And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep. Alfred Lord Tennyson wallsweetlying Nature, so far as in her lies, imitates God. Alfred Lord Tennyson lying The woods decay, the woods decay and fall, The vapours weep their burthen to the ground, Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath, And after many summer dies the swan. Me only cruel immortality Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms, Here at the quiet limit of the world. Alfred Lord Tennyson summerdeathlying I sometimes hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel For words, like nature, half reveal And half conceal the soul within. But, for the unquiet heart and brain A use measured language lie's The sad mechanic exercise Like dull narcotic's, numbing pain In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er Like coarsest clothes against the cold But large grief which these enfold Is given in outline and no more. Alfred Lord Tennyson weedpainlying She sleeps: her breathings are not heard In palace chambers far apart. The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd That lie upon her charmed heart She sleeps: on either hand upswells The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest: She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells A perfect form in perfect rest. Alfred Lord Tennyson dreamheartlying But for the unquiet heart and brain Alfred Lord Tennyson painheartlying Every man at time of Death, Alfred Lord Tennyson cuttingdeathlying Live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts are hurled Far below them in the valleys, and the clouds are lightly curled Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world. Alfred Lord Tennyson housecloudslying Lying is the greatest of all sins. Alfred Nobel sinlying There are no whole truths: All truths are half-truths. Alfred North Whitehead halftruthlying The power of Christianity lies in its revelation in act, of that which Plato divined in theory. Alfred North Whitehead platochristianitylying Art heightens the sense of humanity. It gives an elation to feeling which is supernatural...A million sunsets will not spur us on towards civilization. It requires Art to evoke into consciousness the finite perfections which lie ready for human achievement. Alfred North Whitehead sunsetlyingart«1718192021222324252627»
