Quotes from Alice Meynell

Tender, too, is the silence of human feet. You have but to pass a season amongst the barefooted to find that man, who, shod, makes so much ado, is naturally as silent as snow.

There is nothing in the world more peaceful than apple - leaves with an early moon.

Our fathers valued change for the sake of its results we value it in the act.

O daisy mine, what will it be to look / From God's side even of such a simple thing?

The sense of humor has other things to do than to make itself conspicuous in the act of laughter.

Happiness is not a matter of events; it depends upon the tides of the mind.

Spirit of place! It is for this we travel, to surprise its subtlety and where it is a strong and dominant angel, that place, seen once, abides entire in the memory with all its own accidents, its habits, its breath, its name.

Our fathers valued change for the sake of its results we value it in the act.

There is nothing in the world more peaceful than apple-leaves with an early moon.

Happiness is not a matter of events, it depends upon the tides of the mind.

If there is a look of human eyes that tells of perpetual loneliness, so there is also the familiar look that is the sign of perpetual crowds.

A child is beset with long traditions. And his infancy is so old, so old, that the mere adding of years in the life to follow will not seem to throw it further back -- it is already so far.

If life is not always poetical, it is at least metrical.

From the shaken tower A flock of bells take flight, And go with the hour.

The true colour of life is the colour of the body, the colour of the covered red, the implicit and not explicit red of the living heart and the pulses. It is the modest colour of the unpublished blood.

It is easy to replace man, and it will take no great time, when Nature has lapsed, to replace Nature.

Play is not for every hour of the day, or for any hour taken at random. There is a tide in the affairs of children. Civilization is cruel in sending them to bed at the most stimulating time of dusk.

But, visiting Sea, your love doth press / And reach in further than you know, / And fills all these; and, when you go, / There's loneliness in loneliness.

Spirit of place! It is for this we travel, to surprise its subtlety; and where it is a strong and dominant angel, that place, seen once, abides entire in the memory with all its own accidents, its habits, its breath, its name.

The true color of life is the color of the body, the color of the covered red, the implicit and not explicit red of the living heart and the pulses. It is the modest color of the unpublished blood.

Let a man turn to his own childhood-no further-if he will renew his sense of remoteness, and of the mystery of change.