The man who suspects his own tediousness is yet to be born. Thomas Bailey Aldrich More Quotes by Thomas Bailey Aldrich More Quotes From Thomas Bailey Aldrich I beg you come tonight and dine A welcome waits you and sound wine The Roederer chilly to a charm As Juno's breasts the claret warm. Thomas Bailey Aldrich winewaitingsound What probing deep Has ever solved the mystery of sleep? Thomas Bailey Aldrich probingmysterysleep So I sit there kicked my heels, thinking about New Orleans, and watching a morbid blue-bottle fly attempt to commit suicide by butting his head against the windowpane. Thomas Bailey Aldrich new-orleanssuicidethinking Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows in yonder West; the fair, frail palaces, The fading Alps and archipelagoes and great cloud continents of sunset-seas. Thomas Bailey Aldrich sunsetfireclouds The possession of gold has ruined fewer men than the lack of it. Thomas Bailey Aldrich possessiongoldmen O harp of life, so speedily unstrung! Thomas Bailey Aldrich harpslife What is a day to an immortal soul! Thomas Bailey Aldrich immortal-soulimmortalsoul So precious life is! Even to the old, the hours are as a miser's coins! Thomas Bailey Aldrich coinsagelife Though I be shut in darkness, and become insentient dust blown idly here and there, I count oblivion a scant price to pay for having once had held against my lip life's brimming cup of hydromel and rue--for having once known woman's holy love and a child's kiss, and for a little space been boon companion to the Day and Night, Fed on the odors of the summer dawn, and folded in the beauty of the stars. Dear Lord, though I be changed to senseless clay, and serve the potter as he turns his wheel, I thank Thee for the gracious gift of tears! Thomas Bailey Aldrich starssummerlife The thing one reads and likes, and then forgets, is of no account. The thing that stays, and haunts one, and refuses to be forgotten, that is the sincere thing. Thomas Bailey Aldrich likesforgetbook That was indeed to live -- at one bold swoop to wrest from darkling death the best that death to life can give. Thomas Bailey Aldrich givinglife My mind lets go a thousand things, Thomas Bailey Aldrich kingsletting-gowar Day is a snow-white Dove of heaven That from the East glad message brings. Night is a stealthy, evil Raven, Wrapped to the eyes in his black wings. Thomas Bailey Aldrich eyewingsnight This one sits shivering in Fortune's smile, taking his joy with bated, doubtful breath. This other, gnawed by hunger, all the while laughs in the teeth of Death. Thomas Bailey Aldrich optimismjoylaughing My father invested his money so securely in the banking business that he was never able to get any of it out again. Thomas Bailey Aldrich bankingablefather Black Tragedy lets slip her grim disguise and shows you laughing lips and roguish eyes; but when, unmasked, gay Comedy appears, how wan her cheeks are, and what heavy tears! Thomas Bailey Aldrich gayeyelaughing The young girl in my story is to be as sensitive to praise as a prism is to light. Whenever anybody praises her she breaks into colors. Thomas Bailey Aldrich colorgirllight The laurels of an orator who is not a master of literary art wither quickly. Thomas Bailey Aldrich laurelsmastersart At the beginning of the twentieth century barbarism can throw off its gentle disguise, and burn a man at the stake as complacently as in the Middle Ages. Thomas Bailey Aldrich centuryagemen I like not lady-slippers, Nor yet the sweet-pea blossoms, Nor yet the flaky roses, Red or white as snow; I like the chaliced lilies, The heavy Eastern lilies, The gorgeous tiger-lilies, That in our garden grow. Thomas Bailey Aldrich gardenwhitesweet
