SMITH, Horace Quotes
(1779-1849), English author
The shadow of a sound; a voice without a mouth, and words without a tongue.
Your voiceless lips, O, flowers, are living preachers—each cup a pulpit, and each leaf a book.
What laborious days, what watchings by the midnight lamp, what rackings of the brain, what hopes and fears, what long lives of laborious study, are here sublimized into print, and condensed into the narrow compass of these surrounding shelves!
Poetry is the music of thought, conveyed to us in the music of language.
Reader, now I send thee, like a bee, to gather honey out of flowers and weeds; every garden is furnished with either, and so is ours. Read and meditate.