No sword Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, But one poor poet's scroll, and with his word She shook the world.

Alfred Tennyson
No sword Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, But one...
No sword Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, But one...
No sword Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, But one...
No sword Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, But one...
About This Quote

There's a famous saying in classical Greek, "Όστε δε ναιάν καρτέρα το μήλω σώμα ενδιόπιος μεταβώντων, κλοπών προσφέρων τακτάς αστλής." ("Whoever has a sling and not a sword,is like a man who takes up a stone and is going to throw it at someone, but is afraid he will hit himself.

Some Similar Quotes
  1. Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake. - Wallace Stevens

  2. To be great, be whole; Exclude nothing, exaggerate nothing that is not you. Be whole in everything. Put all you are Into the smallest thing you do. So, in each lake, the moon shines with splendor Because it blooms up above. - Fernando Pessoa

  3. The poet's job is to put into words those feelings we all have that are so deep, so important, and yet so difficult to name, to tell the truth in such a beautiful way, that people cannot live without it. - Jane Kenyon

  4. Truth is a friendthat asks for loyaltyand acceptancethen it enters our heartsdissolving the boundariesfreeing us from lonliness - Nirmala

  5. Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper, That we may record our emptiness. - Kahlil Gibran

More Quotes By Alfred Tennyson
  1. If I had a flower for every time I thought of you... I could walk through my garden forever.

  2. Tis better to have loved and lost, Than never to have loved at all.

  3. I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it when I sorrow most;' Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.

  4. Half the night I waste in sighs, Half in dreams I sorrow after The delight of early skies; In a wakeful dose I sorrow For the hand, the lips, the eyes, For the meeting of the morrow, The delight of happy laughter, The delight of...

  5. Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.

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