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Arthur Symons
Quote #20
The mystic too full of God to speak intelligibly to the world.
More from Arthur Symons
Without charm there can be no fine literature, as there can be no perfect flower without fragrance.
He knew that the whole mystery of beauty can never be comprehended by the crowd, and that while clearness is a virtue of style, perfect exp…
Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses? How soft is this one, how subtle this is, How fluttering swift as a bird's kiss that is, As …
They pass upon their old, tremulous feet, Creeping with little satchels down the street, And they remember, many years ago, Passing that wa…
I have laid sorrow to sleep; Love sleeps. She who oft made me weep Now weeps.
The wind is rising on the sea, The windy white foam-dancers leap; And the sea moans uneasily, And turns to sleep, and cannot sleep.
O my child, who wronged you first, and began First the dance of death that you dance so well? Soul for soul: and I think the soul of a man …
Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air, Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile, Come to me out of the past, and I see her ther…
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