Perhaps there is only one cardinal sin: impatience. Because of impatience we were driven out of Paradise, because of impatience we cannot return.

Quote by W H Auden

Topics: Impatience Quotes, Sin Quotes

All that we are not stares back at what we are.

All that we are not stares back at what we are.

Evil is unspectacular and always human, and shares our bed and eats at our own...

Evil is unspectacular and always human, and shares our bed and eats at our own...

Murder is commoner among cooks than among members of any other profession

Murder is commoner among cooks than among members of any other profession

You owe it to us all to get on with what you're good at.

You owe it to us all to get on with what you're good at.

My face looks like a wedding-cake left out in the rain.

My face looks like a wedding-cake left out in the rain.

If time were the wicked sheriff in a horse opera, I'd pay for riding lessons...

If time were the wicked sheriff in a horse opera, I'd pay for riding lessons...

Sob, heavy world Sob as you spin, Mantled in mist Remote from the happy.

Sob, heavy world Sob as you spin, Mantled in mist Remote from the happy.

Murder is unique in that it abolishes the party it injures, so that society has...

Murder is unique in that it abolishes the party it injures, so that society has...

If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving be me

If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving be me

I know nothing, except what everyone knows if there when Graces dances, I should dance.

I know nothing, except what everyone knows if there when Graces dances, I should dance.

Of all possible subjects, travel is the most difficult for an artist, as it is...

Of all possible subjects, travel is the most difficult for an artist, as it is...

Between friends differences in taste or opinion are irritating in direct proportion to their triviality.

Between friends differences in taste or opinion are irritating in direct proportion to their triviality.

A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language.

A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language.

No hero is mortal till he dies.

No hero is mortal till he dies.

Death is the sound of distant thunder at a picnic.

Death is the sound of distant thunder at a picnic.

No poet or novelist wishes he were the only one who ever lived, but most...

No poet or novelist wishes he were the only one who ever lived, but most...

No hero is immortal till he dies

No hero is immortal till he dies

Healing, Papa would tell me, is not a science, but the intuitive art of wooing...

Healing, Papa would tell me, is not a science, but the intuitive art of wooing...

I'll love you, dear, I'll love you till China and Africa meet and the river...

I'll love you, dear, I'll love you till China and Africa meet and the river...

Some books are undeservedly forgotten; none are undeservedly remembered.

Some books are undeservedly forgotten; none are undeservedly remembered.