“Wanting is—what?
Summer redundant,
Blueness abundant,
Where is the blot?”

Wanting—is what?
Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update Oct. 2, 2023. History

Help us to complete the source, original and additional information

Do you have more details about the quote "Wanting is—what? Summer redundant, Blueness abundant, Where is the blot?" by Robert Browning?

Robert Browning179

English poet and playwright of the Victorian Era 1812–1889

Related quotes

“Frey was the god of spring and summer! read the caption. He was the god of wealth, abundance, and fertility. His twin sister, Freya, the goddess of love, was very pretty! She had cats!”

Rick Riordan book The Sword of Summer

Source: The Sword of Summer

“And life goes on, which seems kind of strange and cruel when you're watching someone die. But there's a joy and an abundance of everything, like information and laughter and summer weather and so many stories.”

Melina Marchetta book On the Jellicoe Road

Source: On the Jellicoe Road

“If there was an abundance of misery in the world, there was also sufficient joy, yes - as long as one knew where to look for it.”

Rohinton Mistry A Fine Balance

Source: A Fine Balance

“But what good’s abundance if nobody can experience it?”

Karl Schroeder (1962) Author. Technology consultant

Source: Lady of Mazes (2005), Chapter 23 (p. 256).

“My power of probing is easily exhausted, my words fade, but what I sense is not emptiness but inexhaustible abundance, ineffable abundance.”

Abraham Joshua Heschel (1907–1972) Polish-American Conservative Judaism Rabbi

Source: Who Is Man? (1965), Ch. 5
Context: In our reflection we must go back to where we stand in awe before sheer being, faced with the marvel of the moment. The world is not just here. It shocks us into amazement.
Of being itself all we can positively say is: being is ineffable. The heart of being confronts me as enigmatic, incompatible with my categories, sheer mystery. My power of probing is easily exhausted, my words fade, but what I sense is not emptiness but inexhaustible abundance, ineffable abundance. What I face I cannot utter or phrase in language. But the richness of my facing the abundance of being endows me with marvelous reward: a sense of the ineffable.