Quotes by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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Ella Wheeler Wilcox (November 5, 1850 October 30, 1919) was an American author and poet. Her best-known work was Poems of Passion, and her autobiography, The Worlds and I was published in 1918 shortly before her death. more

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All love that has not friendship for its base, is like a mansion built upon the sand.

There is no chance, no destiny, no fate, that can hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own.
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.
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.
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.
It is easy enough to be virtuous When nothing tempts you to stray; When without or within No voice of sin Is luring your soul away. But it is only a negative virtue until it is tried by fire. For the soul that is worth the treasures of the earth is the soul that resists desire.
A pat on the back is only a few vertebrae removed from a kick in the pants, but is miles ahead in results.
With every deed you are sowing a seed, though the harvest you may not see.
Tis easy enough to be pleasant, When life flows along like a song; But the man worth while is the one who will smile when everything goes dead wrong.
One ship drives east and other drives west by the same winds that blow. It's the set of the sails and not the gales that determines the way they go.
Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear, your head like the golden-rod, and we will go sailing away from here to the beautiful land of Nod.
The splendid discontent of God With chaos made the world. And from the discontent of man The worlds best progress springs.
The truest greatness lies in being kind, the truest wisdom in a happy mind.
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!
Give us that grand word woman once again, and let's have done with lady; one's a term full of fine force, strong, beautiful, and firm, fit for the noblest use of tongue or pen; and one's a word for lackeys.
To sin by silence, when we should protest,Makes cowards out of men. The human raceHas climbed on protest. Had no voice been raisedAgainst injustice, ignorance, and lust,The inquisition yet would serve the law,And guillotines decide our least disputes. The few who dare, must speak and speak againTo right the wrongs of many. Speech, thank God,No vested power in this great day and landCan gag or throttle. Press and voice may cryLoud disapproval of existing ills;May criticise oppression and condemnThe lawlessness of wealth-protecting lawsThat let the children and childbearers toilTo purchase ease for idle millionaires. Therefore I do protest against the boastOf independence in this mighty land. Call no chain strong, which holds one rusted link. Call no land free, that holds one fettered slave. Until the manacled slim wrists of babesAre loosed to toss in childish sport and glee,Until the mother bears no burden, saveThe precious one beneath her heart, untilGods soil is rescued from the clutch of greedAnd given back to labor, let no manCall this the land of freedom.
What can be said in New Year rhymes, That's not been said a thousand times? The new years come, the old years go, We know we dream, we dream we know.
Lie still and rest, in that serene repose That on this holy morning comes to those Who have been burdened with the cares which make The sad heart weary and the tired heart ache.
"As Monday goes, so goes the week," dames say. Refreshed, renewed, use well the initial day. And see! thy neighbour Already seeks his labour.
Half-way unto the end--the week's high noon. The morning hours do speed away so soon! And, when the noon is reached, however bright, Instinctively we look toward the night.
From feasts abstain; be temperate, and pray; Fast if thou wilt; and yet, throughout the day, Neglect no labour and no duty shirk: Not many hours are left thee for thy work.
Let the love die. Are there not other loves As beautiful and full of sweet unrest, Flying through space like snowy-pinioned doves?

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