Samuel Taylor Coleridge Quotes

Day after day, day after day,We stuck, nor breath nor motion;As idle as a painted shipUpon a painted ocean.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

No man was ever yet a great poet, without at the same time being a profound philosopher.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Common sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Silence does not always mark wisdom.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

If men could learn from history, what lessons it might teach us. But passion and party blind our eyes, and the light which experience gives us is a lantern on the stern, which shines only on the waves behind us.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

But I do not doubt that it is beneficial sometimes to contemplate in the mind, as in a picture, the image of a grander and better world; for if the mind grows used to the trivia of daily life, it may dwindle too much and decline altogether into worthless thoughts.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The many men, so beautiful!And they all dead did lie:And a thousand thousand slimy thingsLived on; and so did I.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

What if you slept And what if In your sleep You dreamed And what if In your dream You went to heaven And there plucked a strange and beautiful flower And what if When you awoke You had that flower in you hand Ah, what then?

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Water, water, everywhere,And all the boards did shrink;Water, water, everywhere,Nor any drop to drink.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Poetry: the best words in the best order.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Sir, I admit your general rule, That every poet is a fool, But you yourself may serve to show it, That every fool is not a poet.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns: And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

In Xanadu did Kubla KhanA stately pleasure-dome decree:Where Alph, the sacred river, ranThrough caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Prose: words in their best order, poetry: the best words in the best order.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Then all the charm Is broken--all that phantom-world so fair Vanishes, and a thousand circlets spread, And each mis-shape the other.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

To be loved is all I need, And whom I love, I love indeed.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover!

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high; But oh! more horrible than that Is the curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

But yester-night I prayed aloud In anguish and in agony, Up-starting from the fiendish crowd Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me: A lurid light, a trampling throng, Sense of intolerable wrong, And whom I scorned, those only strong! Thirst of revenge, the powerless will Still baffled, and yet burning still! Desire with loathing strangely mixed On wild or hateful objects fixed. Fantastic passions! maddening brawl! And shame and terror over all! Deeds to be hid which were not hid, Which all confused I could not know Whether I suffered, or I did: For all seemed guilt, remorse or woe, My own or others still the same Life-stifling fear, soul-stifling shame.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

He who is best prepared can best serve his moment of inspiration.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

For I was reared in the great city, pent with cloisters dim,and saw naught lovely but the sky and stars.But thou, my babe! Shalt wander like a breezeBy lakes and sandy shores, beneath the cragsOf ancient mountains, and beneath the clouds,Which image in their bulk both lakes and shoresAnd mountain crags: so shall thou see and hearThe lovely shapes and sounds intelligible Of that eternal language, which thy GodUtters, who from eternity doth teachHimself in all, and al things in himselfGreat universal teacher! He shall moldThy spirit and by giving , make it ask.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind, Reality's dark dream! I turn from you, and listen to the wind.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Swans sing before they die— 't were no bad thing Should certain persons die before they sing.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

IIA grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear,      A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief,      Which finds no natural outlet, no relief,          In word, or sigh, or tear — O Lady! in this wan and heartless mood,To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd,      All this long eve, so balmy and serene,Have I been gazing on the western sky,      And its peculiar tint of yellow green:And still I gaze — and with how blank an eye!And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars,That give away their motion to the stars;Those stars, that glide behind them or between,Now sparkling, now bedimmed, but always seen:Yon crescent Moon as fixed as if it grewIn its own cloudless, starless lake of blue;I see them all so excellently fair,I see, not feel how beautiful they are!III          My genial spirits fail;          And what can these availTo lift the smothering weight from off my breast?          It were a vain endeavour,          Though I should gaze for everOn that green light that lingers in the west:I may not hope from outward forms to winThe passion and the life, whose fountains are within.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Readers may be divided into four classes: I. Sponges, who absorb all they read, and return it nearly in the same state, only a little dirtied. II. Sand-glasses, who retain nothing, and are content to get through a book for the sake of getting through the time. III. Strain-bags, who retain merely the dregs of what they read. IV. Mogul diamonds, equally rare and valuable, who profit by what they read, and enable others to profit by it also.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Every other science presupposes intelligence as already existing and complete: the philosopher contemplates it in its growth, and as it were represents its history to the mind from its birth to its maturity.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The one red leaf, the last of its clan,That dances as often as dance it can,Hanging so light, and hanging so high,On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Where true Love burns Desire is Love's pure flame;It is the reflex of our earthly frame,That takes its meaning from the nobler part,And but translates the language of the heart.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

What if you slept? And what if, in your sleep, you dreamed? And what if, in your dream, you went to heaven and there plucked a strange and beautiful flower? And what if, when you awake, you had the flower in your hand? Ah, what then?

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

On Pilgrim's Progress: “I could not have believed beforehand that Calvinism could be painted in such exquisitely delightful colors.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The reader should be carried forward, not merely or chiefly by the mechanical impulse of curiosity, or by a restless desire to arrive at the final solution; but by the pleasurable activity of mind excited by the attractions of the journey itself.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

A grief without a pang, void, dark and drear,A drowsy, stifled, unimpassioned grief,Which finds no natural outlet or relief,In word, or sigh, or tear.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

If a man could pass through Paradise in a dream, and have a flower presented to him as a pledge that his soul had really been there, and if he found that flower in his hand when he awoke - Aye! and what then?

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

A man’s desire is for the woman, but the woman’s desire is rarely other than for the desire of the man.

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

An orphans curse would drag to hellA spirit from on high,But oh! How more horrible that thatIs the curse in a dead man’s eye!

~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge