A Quote by Phoebe Cary

One sweetly solemn thought, comes to me o'er and o'er; I am nearer home today, than I ever have been before.

Phoebe Cary

Quote Topics

Am Been Before Ever Home Me Nearer Solemn Than Thought Today

Quote Author

Phoebe Cary
American - Poet
September 4, 1824 - July 31, 1871

Today I am one day nearer Home than ever before.

Vance Havner

If I had died it would have been even better for you political bratchnies, would it not, pretending and treacherous droogs as you are.' But all that came out was er er er.

Anthony Burgess

Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch A broader browner shade; Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech O'er-canopies the glade, Beside some water's rushy brink With me the Muse shall sit, and think.

Thomas Gray

Who has not felt how sadly sweet The dream of home, the dream of home, Steals o'er the heart, too soon to fleet, When far o'er sea or land we roam?

Charles Lamb

Where'er a noble deed is wrought, Where'er is spoken a noble thought, Our hearts in glad surprise To higher levels rise.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The cloudlets are lazily sailing O'er the blue Atlantic sea; And mid the twilight there hovers A shadowy figure o'er me.

Heinrich Heine

Mensch kann tun was er will; er kann aber nicht wollen was er will. (One can choose what to do, but not what to want.)

Arthur Schopenhauer

Such night in England ne'er had been, nor ne'er again shall be.

Thomas Babington Macaulay

I was one of the first to read the 'ER' script and the good news is George Clooney still gives me credit for helping to launch his career. I had George Clooney under contract for four years in a row before 'ER' happened. He's one of the few who remembers the people who helped him.

Leslie Moonves

Come o'er the sea, Maiden with me, Mine through the sunshine, storms and snows; Seasons may roll, But the true soul Burns the same, where'er it goes.

Thomas Moore

Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn.

William Shenstone

With what a deep devotedness of woe I wept thy absence - o'er and o'er again Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, And memory, like a drop that, night and day, Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!