Thomas Moore

A friendship that like love is warm; A love like friendship, steady.

This heart, my own dear mother, bends, with love's true instinct, back to thee!

Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.

Most of us can remember a time when a birthday especially if it was ones own brightened the world as if a second sun has risen.

While mantling on the maiden's cheek Young roses kindled into thought.

And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.

Like ships that have gone down at sea, when heaven was all tranquillity.

Romantic love is an illusion. Most of us discover this truth at the end of a love affair or else when the sweet emotions of love lead us into marriage and then turn down their flames.

True change takes place in the imagination.

Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.

The only thing as challenging as getting tangled in the underbrush of relationship is trying to write about it.

Humility, that low, sweet root, from which all heavenly virtues shoot.

This is the right time, and this is the right thing.

Education is not the piling on of learning, information, data, facts, skills, or abilities - that's training or instruction - but is rather making visible what is hidden as a seed.

It is only to the happy that tears are a luxury.

It is in the nature of things to be drawn to the very experiences that will spoil our innocence transform our lives and give us necessary complexity and depth.

This heart my own dear mother bends with loves true instinct back to thee

You may break, you may shatter the vase, if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.

Like a young eagle who has lent his plume To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom See their own feathers pluckd to wing the dart Which rank corruption destines for their heart

A boat at midnight sent alone to drift upon the moonless sea a lute whose leading chord is gone a wounded bird that hath but one imperfect wing to soar upon are like what I am without thee.

All that's bright must fade, The brightest still the fleetest; All that's sweet was made But to be lost when sweetest.

Came but for friendship, and took away love.

Desires are central to the soul's unfolding and should not be dismissed before giving them careful attention.

A soulmate is someone to whom we feel profoundly connected, as though the communicating and communing that take place between us were not the product of intentional efforts, but rather a divine grace.

Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.

There is nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream.

Finding the right work is like discovering your own soul in the world.

A pretty wife is something for the fastidious vanity of a roue to retire upon.

No theres nothing half so sweet in life as loves young dream.

Study until twenty-five, investigation until forty, profession until sixty, at which age I would have him retired on a double allowance.

Gnostic tales tell of the homesickness of the soul its yearning for its own milieu

And soon, too soon, we part with pain, To sail o'er silent seas again.

The heart that has truly loved never forgets But as truly loves on to the close.

Plants that wake when others sleep. Timid jasmine buds that keep their fragrance to themselves all day, but when the sunlight dies away let the delicious secret out to every breeze that roams about.

When we allow ourselves to exist truly and fully we sting the world with our vision and challenge it with our own ways of being.

How sweet the answer Echo makes To music at night When roused by lute or horn she wakes And far away oer lawns and lakes Goes answering light.

Bastard Freedom waves Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.

From plants that wake when others sleep, from timid jasmine buds that keep their odour to themselves all day, but when the sunlight dies away let the delicious secret out to every breeze that roams about.

No, there's nothing half so sweet in life as love's young dream.

A pretty wife is something for the fastidious vanity of a rougue to retire upon.

Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever.

Those who plot the destruction of others often perish in the attempt.

Those virgin lilies, all the night Bathing their beauties in the lake, That they may rise more fresh and bright, When their beloved sun's awake.

The problem in narcissism is not the high ideals and ambitions, it's the difficulty one encounters when trying to give them body.

Wisdom and deep intelligence require an honest appreciation of mystery.