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Sara Coleridge Biography

Sara Coleridge (23 December 1802 – 3 May 1852) was an English author and translator. She was the third child, out of four, and only daughter of Samuel Taylor Coleridge and his wife Sara Fricker.

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Sara Coleridge Quotes

Hot July brings cooling showers, Apricots and gillyflowers.

Summer, July, Hot, Showers, Apricots

avarice is especially, I suppose, a disease of the imagination.

Avarice, Disease, Greed, Imagination, Suppose

The death of my mother permanently affects my happiness, more even than I should have anticipated, though I always knew that I must feel the separation at first as a severe wrench. But I did not apprehend, during her life, to what a degree she prevented me from feeling heart-solitude.

Degree, Feeling, Happiness, Heart, Mother, Should Have

Dull November brings the blast, Then the leaves are whirling fast.

Blast, Dull, Fast, Leaves, November

It is remarkable what fine hands men of genius write, even when they are as awkward in all other uses of the hand as a cow with a musket.

Genius, Hand, Hands, Men, Remarkable, Writing

Chill December brings the sleet, Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.

Brings, Chill, Christmas, December, Fire, Treat

Puns are often unacceptable to the feelings; they come like a spoonful of ice-cream in the midst of a comfortable smoking-hot steak, or as a peppery morsel when your palate was in expectation of a mild pudding.

Ice Cream, Expectations, Smoking, Comfortable, Pudding, Palate

bubbles of false opinion will last whole ages, and deceive whole generations, till they are broken by some powerful breath, and even then how often they reunite, and again shine in the eyes of men, who hold them solid as cannon-balls!

Bubbles, Eye, Generations, Men, Powerful, Shine

February brings the rain, Thaws the frozen lake again.

Frozen, Frozen Lake, Lakes, Rain, Thaws

there is nothing so uncertain and slippery as fact.

Fact, Facts, Slippery, Uncertain

I very much wish that some day or other you may have time to learn Greek, because that language is an idea. Even a little of it is like manure to the soil of the mind, and makes it bear finer flowers.

Day, Flower, Flowers, Greek, Ideas, Like

Fresh October brings the pheasant, The to gather nuts is pleasant.

Brings, Fresh, Nuts, October, Pheasants

Much waste of words and of thought too would be avoided if disputants would always begin with a clear statement of the question, and not proceed to argue till they had agreed upon what it was that they were arguing about.

Arguing, Thought, Till, Waste, Words, Would Be

I don't pretend to any exemption from the general lot of parental delusion-I mean that like most other parents I see my child through an atmosphere which illuminates, magnifies, and at the same time refines the object to a degree that amounts to a delusion.

Children, Delusion, Illuminates, Mean, Parent, Pretend

The desire to be the object of public attention is weak, but the excessive dread of it is but a form of vanity and over-self-contemplativeness.

Desire, Public, Self, Vanity, Weak

Life is the steam of the corporeal engine; the soul is the engineer who makes use of the steam-quickened engine.

Soul, Use, Life Is, Corporeal, Steam, Engineer

I would have any one, who really and truly has leisure and ability, make verses. I think it a more refining and happy-making occupation than any other pastime accomplishment.

Accomplishment, Make, Occupation, Thinking, Verses

Sara Coleridge Biography

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