Robert Browning Heart Quotations

Would you have your songs endure? Build on the human heart.

O woman-country! wooed not wed, Loved all the more by earth's male-lands, Laid to their hearts instead.

How good is man's life, the mere living! How fit to employ all the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy!

Only I discern Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn.

"With this same key Shakespeare unlocked his heart" once more! Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare he!

Italy, my Italy! Queen Mary's saying serves for me (When fortune's malice Lost her Calais): "Open my heart, and you will see Graved inside of it 'Italy.'"

All the breath and the bloom of the year in the bag of one bee; All the wonder and wealth of the mine in the heart of one gem; In the core of one pearl all the shade and the shine of the sea; Breath and bloom, shade and shine,- wonder, wealth, and-how far above them- Truth, that's brighter than gem, Truth, that's purer than pearl,- Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe- all were for me In the kiss of one girl.

Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her- Next time, herself!-not the trouble behind her

The rain set early in tonight, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, And did its best to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze up and all the cottage warm;

Hand Grasps at hand, eye lights eye in good friendship, And great hearts expand And grow one in the sense of this world's life.

The heavens and earth stay as they were; my heart Beats as it beat: the truth remains the truth.

Sorrow, the heart must bear, Sits in the home of each, conspicuous there. Many a circumstance, at least, Touches the very breast. For those Whom any sent away,--he knows: And in the live man's stead, Armor and ashes reach The house of each.

If you can sit at set of sun And count the deeds that you have done And counting find oneself-denying act, one word That eased the heart of him that heard. One glance most kind, Which fell like sunshine where he went, Then you may count that day well spent.

On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.

Where the heart lies, let the brain lie also.

Open my heart, and you will see Graved inside of it ‘Italy.'

This is a heart the Queen leant on.