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Rupert Brooke

Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.

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A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years.

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We always love those who admire us; we do not always love those whom we admire.

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Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.

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The cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss of blankets.

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A book may be compared to your neighbor: if it be good, it cannot last too long; if bad, you cannot get rid of it too early.

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A book may be compared to your neighbor; if it be good, it cannot last too long; if bad, you cannot get rid of it too early.

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Song

The way of love was thus.
He was born one wintry morn
With hands delicious,
And it was well with us.

Love came our quiet way,
Lit pride in us, and died in us,
All in a winter's day.
There is no more to say.

poem by Rupert Brooke from The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke, With a Memoir (1913)Report problemRelated quotes
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Fragment on Painters

There is an evil which that Race attains
Who represent God's World with oily paints,
Who mock the Universe, so rare and sweet,
With spots of colour on a canvas sheet,
Defile the Lovely and insult the Good
By scrawling upon little bits of wood.
They'd snare the moon, and catch the immortal sun
With madder brown and pale vermillion,
Entrap an English evening's magic hush . . .

poem by Rupert Brooke from The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke, With a Memoir (1918)Report problemRelated quotes
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The Dance

A Song

As the Wind, and as the Wind,
In a corner of the way,
Goes stepping, stands twirling,
Invisibly, comes whirling,
Bows before, and skips behind,
In a grave, an endless play -

So my Heart, and so my Heart,
Following where your feet have gone,
Stirs dust of old dreams there ;
He turns a toe ; he gleams there,
Treading you a dance apart.
But you see not. You pass on.

poem by Rupert Brooke (1915)Report problemRelated quotes
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