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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 10e56e9 | In years that bring the philosophic mind. | William Wordsworth | ||
| e9884f5 | To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. | William Wordsworth | ||
| e9d9227 | And 't is my faith, that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 17b6198 | The bane of all that dread the Devil. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 8ce50c0 | Men who can hear the Decalogue, and feel To self-reproach. | William Wordsworth | ||
| f0e5a46 | As in the eye of Nature he has lived, So in the eye of Nature let him die! | William Wordsworth | ||
| ae2d02b | Full twenty times was Peter feared, For once that Peter was respected. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 1c91c61 | The cattle are grazing, There are forty feeding like one! | William Wordsworth | ||
| 9b5d278 | A happy youth, and their old age Is beautiful and free. | William Wordsworth | ||
| e3a2ab7 | And often, glad no more, We have been glad of yore. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 6ee619e | Until a man might travel twelve stout miles, Or reap an acre of his neighbor's corn. | William Wordsworth | ||
| ae5ae83 | And he is oft the wisest man Who is not wise at all. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 0d6d6a1 | A jolly place," said he, "in times of old! But something ails it now: the spot is cursed." | William Wordsworth | ||
| 09b2948 | Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 07f11ff | A noticeable man, with large gray eyes. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 23b07ee | We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 50c7302 | The best of what we do and are, Just God, forgive! | William Wordsworth | ||
| b09022f | For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago. | William Wordsworth | ||
| a1f4be2 | Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain That has been, and may be again. | William Wordsworth | ||
| f3cbecd | To be a Prodigal's favourite,--then, worse truth, A Miser's pensioner,--behold our lot! | William Wordsworth | ||
| 603c150 | Maidens withering on the stalk. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 5b8883a | Sweetest melodies Are those that are by distance made more sweet. | William Wordsworth | ||
| e266b8c | The gentle Lady married to the Moor, And heavenly Una with her milk-white lamb. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 7d56144 | A power is passing from the earth. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 48e96eb | Earth helped him with the cry of blood. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 8b7513c | Turning, for them who pass, the common dust Of servile opportunity to gold. | William Wordsworth | ||
| f9afc1e | To the solid ground Of Nature trusts the mind that builds for aye. | William Wordsworth | ||
| c0a94c7 | Soft is the music that would charm forever; The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly. | William Wordsworth | ||
| e9bf5c4 | A Briton even in love should be A subject, not a slave! | William Wordsworth | ||
| e95ef0e | But he is risen, a later star of dawn. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 12e40f3 | Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 12d46fe | Stern Winter loves a dirge-like sound. | William Wordsworth | ||
| ab87218 | The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift. | William Wordsworth | ||
| ca6b7b0 | Nature's old felicities. | William Wordsworth | ||
| 7c5ca5d | How fast has brother followed brother, From sunshine to the sunless land! | William Wordsworth | ||
| 7cc1157 | Necessity, the mother of invention. | William Wycherley | ||
| 2237bc7 | And with faint praises one another damn. | William Wycherley | ||
| 7e3b93b | Nobody becomes Tom Wolfe overnight, not even Tom Wolfe. | William Zinsser | ||
| e87cfcc | A writer will do anything to avoid the act of writing. | William Zinsser | ||
| effe115 | Good writers are visible just behind their words. | William Zinsser | ||
| 312fe94 | You are writing for yourself. | William Zinsser | ||
| 3f0ecf6 | If you lose the dullards back in the dust, that's where they belong. You don't want them anyway. | William Zinsser | ||
| 12e6bce | The writer who cares about usage must always know the quick from the dead. | William Zinsser | ||
| 884db3f | All writing is ultimately a question of solving a problem. | William Zinsser |