Revelations of Divine Love (c. 1393), Chapter 3
“How sweet to feel its helpless form
Depending thus on me alone!
And while I hold it safe and warm
What bliss to think it is my own!
To feel my hand so kindly prest,
To know myself beloved at last,
To think my heart has found a rest,
My life of solitude is past!”
Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846), Dreams (1845)
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Depending thus on me alone!
And while I hold it safe and warm
What bliss to thin…" by Anne Brontë?
Anne Brontë 148
British novelist and poet 1820–1849Related quotes
Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846), Dreams (1845)
Context: While on my lonely couch I lie,
I seldom feel myself alone,
For fancy fills my dreaming eye
With scenes and pleasures of its own.
Then I may cherish at my breast
An infant's form beloved and fair,
May smile and soothe it into rest
With all a Mother's fondest care.
“Sometimes I think I won't ever feel safe until I can count my last days on one hand.”
Source: Sharp Objects
Thomas Chalmers
(1780–1847) Scottish mathematician and a leader of the Free Church of Scotland
Source: Dictionary of Burning Words of Brilliant Writers (1895), P. 83.
Caspar David Friedrich
(1774–1840) Swedish painter
Quote of Friedrich, 1821; as cited in Authenticity and Fiction in the Russian Literary Journey, 1790-1840 (2000) by Andreas Schönle, p. 108, from memoirs of Vasily Zhukovsky
Variant translation: I have to stay alone in order to fully contemplate and feel nature.
This answer of Friedrich is recorded by Vasily Zhukovsky who asked the painter in 1821 to travel together to Switzerland
1794 - 1840
“In my solitude I sing to myself a sweet lullaby, as sweet as my mother used to sing to me.”
Albert Cohen
(1895–1981) Swiss writer
Le livre de ma mère [The Book of My Mother] (1954)
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
(1797–1851) English novelist, short story writer, dramatist, essayist, biographer, and travel writer
Journal entry on the writing of her science-fiction novel The Last Man (14 May 1824)
Jane Roberts
(1929–1984) American Writer
Source: Psychic Politics: An Aspect Psychology Book (1976), p. 28-29
Context: Others have provided maps for the psyche, but I've never trusted them. Those maps carried the marks of too many name-places in this reality. When you travel through the psyche, you necessarily journey through your own deepest mind -- and as you travel into inner realities, this means that you move into another kind of atmosphere, as you would if you were travelling in outer space. In the past, others have projected phantoms of their own minds there, then acted as if these were natural signposts. In my journeys I refused to follow those paths, feeling that they were not safe or dependable and fearing that they might cloud my own view or make me lose my way.
Fernando Pessoa
(1888–1935) Portuguese poet, writer, literary critic, translator, publisher and philosopher
<p>Sou um guardador de rebanhos.
O rebanho é os meus pensamentos
E os meus pensamentos são todos sensações.
Penso com os olhos e com os ouvidos
E com as mãos e os pés
E com o nariz e a boca.
Pensar uma flor é vê-la e cheirá-la
E comer um fruto é saber-lhe o sentido.</p><p>Por isso quando num dia de calor
Me sinto triste de gozá-lo tanto,
E me deito ao comprido na erva,
E fecho os olhos quentes,
Sinto todo o meu corpo deitado na realidade,
Sei a verdade e sou feliz.</p>
Alberto Caeiro (heteronym), O Guardador de Rebanhos ("The Keeper of Sheep"), IX — in A Little Larger Than the Entire Universe, trans. Richard Zenith (Penguin, 2006)