A Quote by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

My patience has dreadful chilblains from standing so long on a monument. — © Elizabeth Barrett Browning
My patience has dreadful chilblains from standing so long on a monument.
I've done an awful lot of stuff that's a monument to public patience.
There are some things too dreadful to be revealed, and it is even more dreadful how, in spite of our better instincts,we long to know about them.
a young woman in love always looks like patience on a monument smiling at grief
All the Dachaus must remain standing. The Dachaus, the Belsens, the Buchenwalds, the Auschwitzes - all of them. They must remain standing because they are a monument to a moment in time when some men decided to turn the Earth into a graveyard. Into it they shoveled all of their reason, their logic, their knowledge,,then we become the gravediggers.
The strong manly ones in life are those who understand the meaning of the word patience. Patience means restraining one's inclinations. There are seven emotions: joy, anger, anxiety, adoration, grief, fear, and hate, and if a man does not give way to these he can be called patient. I am not as strong as I might be, but I have long known and practiced patience. And if my descendants wish to be as I am, they must study patience.
There is no such thing as preaching patience into people, unless the sermon is so long that they have to practice it while they hear. No man can learn patience except by going out into the hurlyburly world, and taking life just as it blows. Patience is but lying to, and riding out the gale.
I pray they will carry on in spite of that dreadful monster prejudice, and with patience, courage, fortitude and perseverance achieve success for themselves.
Being a runner has brought me a lot of patience, and patience goes a long way in life.
Your passion must be tempered with patience. Maybe long-suffering patience would be a better word.
Those only deserve a monument who do not need one; that is, who have raised themselves a monument in the minds and memories of men.
Thomas Paine needs no monument made with hands; he has erected a monument in the hearts of all lovers of liberty.
The absence of a monument can, in its own way, be something of a monument also.
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief
Those who talk of the bible as a monument of English prose are merely admiring it as a monument over the grave of Christianity.
Patience! Patience! Patience is the invention of dullards and sluggards. In a well-regulated world there should be no need of such a thing as patience.
You might say, 'What a dreadful day', without realizing that the cold, the wind, and the rain or whatever condition you react to are not dreadful. They are as they are. What is dreadful is your reaction, your inner resistance to it, and the emotion that is created by that resistance.
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