104 Total Quotes

Ella Wilcox Quotes Page 2

So many gods, so many creeds, So many paths that wind and wind, While just the art of being kind Is all the sad world needs
Ella Wilcox
#Art

Oh! I know this truth, if I know no other,That passionate Love is Pain's own mother.
Ella Wilcox
#Love

Always continue the climb. It is possible for you to do whatever you choose, if you first get to know who you are and are willing to work with a power that is greater than ourselves to do it.
Ella Wilcox
#American Writer #Work

When we tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new. This restless craving in the souls of men spurs them to climb, and to seek the mountain view.
Ella Wilcox
#American Writer #Men

It has ever been since time began, and ever will be, till time lose breath, that love is a mood /no more /to man, and love to a woman is life or death.
Ella Wilcox
#Love

Between the finite and the infiniteThe missing link of Love has left a void.Supply the link, and earth with Heaven will joinIn one continued chain of endless life.
Ella Wilcox
#Earth

Many times I am asked why the suffering of animals should call forth more sympathy from me than the suffering of human beings; why I work in this direction of charitable work more than toward any other. My answer is that because I believe that this work includes all the education and lines of reform which are needed to make a perfect circle of peace and goodwill about the Earth.
Ella Wilcox
#Animals

Then arise, O idle dreamer! Dreams are sweet,But better flowers are growing at your feet.If you crush, or pass unheeding, idle friend,You shall answer for their ruin in the end.
Ella Wilcox
#Dreams

Far from the city's dust and heat,I get but sounds and odors sweet.Who can wonder I love to stay,Week after week, here hidden away,In this sly nook that I love the best --This little brown house like a ground-bird's nest?
Ella Wilcox
#Love

A pat on the back is only a few vertebrae removed from a kick in the pants, but is miles ahead in results.
Ella Wilcox
#American Writer

If you are seeking health, wealth, usefulness, skill in any direction, there is nothing and no one who can hinder your attainment of the coveted boon, if you are willing to work and wait.
Ella Wilcox
#Direction

The splendid discontent of God With Chaos, made the world; And from the discontent of man The world's best progress springs
Ella Wilcox
#Chaos

The dark today leads into light tomorrow; There is no endless joy, ...and yet no endless sorrow.
Ella Wilcox
#Joy

It is easy enough to be pleasant, When life flows by like a song. But the man worth while is the one who can smile, when everything goes dead wrong. For the test of the heart is troubled, And it always comes with the years. And the smiles that is worth the praises of earth is the smile that shines through tears.
Ella Wilcox
#Adversity #Life

And I am glad my heart can say,When others trip and fall(Although I safely passed that way),""I understand it all.""
Ella Wilcox
#Heart

The truest greatness lies in being kind, the truest wisdom in a happy mind.
Ella Wilcox
#American Writer

The year's four changing seasons broughtTo her own door what thousands soughtIn wandering ways and did not find -Diversion and content of mind.
Ella Wilcox
#Seasons

There is room in the halls of pleasureFor a long and lordly train,But one by one we must all file onThrough the narrow aisles of pain.
Ella Wilcox
#Pleasure

Somebody's sorrow is making me weep:I know not her name, but I echo her cry,For the dearly bought baby she longed so to keep,The baby that rode to its long-lasting sleepIn the little white hearse that went rumbling by.
Ella Wilcox
#Sorrow

Oh! what are years? A ripe three score and tenHold often less of life, in its best sense,Than just a twelvemonth lived by other men,Whose high-strung souls are ardent and intense.
Ella Wilcox
#Life

With care, and skill, and cunning art, She parried Time's malicious dart, And kept the years at bay, Till passion entered in her heart and aged her in a day!
Ella Wilcox
#American Writer

For an actress to be a success, she must have the face of Venus, the brains of a Minerva, the grace of Terpsichore, the memory of a Macaulay, the figure of Juno, and the hide of a rhinoceros.
Ella Wilcox
#American Writer #Success

Back on its golden hinges<br/>The gate of Memory swings,<br/>And my heart goes into the garden<br/>And walks with the olden things.
Ella Wilcox
#Memory #Heart

"Conversation"<br/><br/>God and I in space alone . . .<br/>and nobody else in view . . .<br/>"And where are all the people,<br/>Oh Lord" I said,<br/> "the earth below<br/> and the sky overhead<br/>and the dead that I once knew?"<br/>"That was a dream," God smiled<br/>and said: "The dream that seemed to<br/>be true; there were no people<br/>living or dead; there was no earth,<br/> and no sky overhead,<br/>there was only myself in you."<br/>"Why do I feel no fear?" I asked,<br/>"meeting you here in this way?<br/>For I have sinned, I know full well<br/>and is there heaven and is there hell,<br/>and is this Judgement Day?"<br/>"Nay, those were but dreams"<br/> the Great God said, "dreams that have ceased to<br/> be.<br/>There are no such things as fear and sin;<br/>there is no you . . . you never have been.<br/>There is nothing at all but me."
Ella Wilcox
#God

If I could clasp my little babe Upon my breast to-night, I would not mind the blowing wind That shrieketh in affright. Oh, my lost babe! my little babe, My babe with dreamful eyes; Thy bed is cold; and night wind bold Shrieks woeful lullabies. My breast is softer than the sod; This room, with lighter hearth, Is better place for thy sweet face Than frozen mother eatrth. Oh, my babe! oh, my lost babe! Oh, babe with waxen hands, I want thee so, I need thee so - Come from thy mystic lands! No love that, like a mother's fills Each corner of the heart; No loss like hers, that rends, and chills, And tears the soul apart. Oh, babe - my babe, my helpless babe! I miss thy little form. Would I might creep where thou dost sleep, And clasp thee through the storm. I hold thy pillow to my breast, To bring a vague relief; I sing the songs that soothed thy rest - Ah me! no cheating grief. My breathing babe! my sobbing babe! I miss thy plaintive moan, I cannot hear - thou art not near - My little one, my own. Thy father sleeps. He mourns thy loss, But little fathers know The pain that makes a mother toss Through sleepless nights of woe. My clinging babe! my nursing babe! What knows thy father - man - How my breasts miss thy lips' soft kiss - None but a mother can.
Ella Wilcox
#Mothers