Books, books, books! I had found the secret of a garret room Piled high with cases in my father’s name;Piled high, packed large,--where, creeping in and out Among the giant fossils of my past, Like some small nimble mouse between the ribs Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and thereat this or that box, pulling through the gap, In heats of terror, haste, victorious joy, The first book first. And how I felt it beat Under my pillow, in the morning’s dark, An hour before the sun would let me read! My books!

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Earth changes but thy soul and God stand sure.

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God.

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God: But only he who sees takes off his shoes.

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Earth's crammed with heaven... But only he who sees, takes off his shoes.

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Enough! We're tired, my heart and I. We sit beside the headstone thus, And wish that name were carved for us. The moss reprints more tenderly The hard types of the mason's knife, As Heaven's sweet life renews earth's life With which we're tired, my heart and I .... In this abundant earth no doubts little room for things worn out:Disdain them, break them, throw them by! And if before the days grew rough We once were loved, used, - well enough, I think, we've fared, my heart and I.

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning

For this not in mere death that men die most.

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning

God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers And thrusts the thing we have prayed for in our face. A gauntlet with a gift in't.

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning

God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame.

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning

God's gifts put men's best dreams to shame.

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning