Robert Louis Stevenson
Robert Louis Stevenson
Robert Louis Balfour Stevensonwas a Scottish novelist, poet, essayist, and travel writer. His most famous works are Treasure Island, Kidnapped, Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and A Child's Garden of Verses...
NationalityScottish
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth13 November 1850
death heart eye
But we are so fond of life that we have no leisure to entertain the terror of death. It is a honeymoon with us all through, and none of the longest. Small blame to us if we give our whole hearts to this glowing bride of ours, to the appetities, to honour, to the hungry curiosity of the mind, to the pleasure of the eyes in nature, and the pride of our own nimble bodies.
faith victory unqualified
Hope looks for unqualified success; but Faith counts certainly on failure, and takes honorable defeat to be a form of victory.
experience way facts
Doubtless the world is quite right in a million ways; but you have to be kicked about a little to convince you of the fact.
education thinking firsts
The problem of education is twofold: first to know, and then to utter. Everyone who lives any semblance of an inner life thinks more nobly and profoundly than he speaks.
eye poetry gold
Trusty, dusky, vivid, true, With eyes of gold and bramble-dew, Steel-true and blade-straight, The great artificer made my mate.
memories first-love sea
The first experience can never be repeated. The first love, the first sun-rise, the first South Sea Island, are memories apart, and touched a virginity of sense.
men doctors lasts
Every man is his own doctor of divinity, in the last resort.
men noble can-do
The only noble thing a man can do with money is to build a schooner.
becoming capable
Be what you are, and become what you are capable of becoming.
color water mind
A little amateur painting in water colors shows the innocent and the quiet mind.
jealousy war naked
Jealousy is the most radical primeval and naked form of admiration in war paint, so to speak.
men self mind
Under the strain of this continually impending doom and by the sleeplessness to which I now condemned myself, ay, even beyond what I had thought possible to man, I became, in my own person, a creature eaten up and emptied by fever, languidly weak both in body and mind, and solely occupied by one thought: the horror of my other self.
walking
I travel not to go anywhere, but to go.
talking strange affair
I am painfully situated, Utterson; my position is a very strange - a very strange one. It is one of those affairs that cannot be mended by talking.