You were made perfectly to be loved – and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.
Meaning of the quote
This quote by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, a famous English poet, is saying that you were created to be loved. She has loved the idea of you, the person you are, for your entire life. In other words, you were made to be cared for and appreciated just as you are.
About Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Elizabeth Barrett Browning was an English poet who lived during the Victorian era. She was a prolific writer, publishing several acclaimed collections of poetry, and her work helped influence reforms in child labor legislation. Her courtship and marriage to fellow poet Robert Browning was carried out in secret, and the couple later moved to Italy, where Elizabeth lived until her death in 1861.
More quotes from Elizabeth Barrett Browning
World’s use is cold, world’s love is vain, world’s cruelty is bitter bane; but is not the fruit of pain.
English poet (1806-1861)
At painful times, when composition is impossible and reading is not enough, grammars and dictionaries are excellent for distraction.
English poet (1806-1861)
Light tomorrow with today!
English poet (1806-1861)
He lives most life whoever breathes most air.
English poet (1806-1861)
And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.
English poet (1806-1861)
What I do and what I dream include thee, as the wine must taste of its own grapes.
English poet (1806-1861)
If you desire faith, then you have faith enough.
English poet (1806-1861)
A woman is always younger than a man at equal years.
English poet (1806-1861)
For tis not in mere death that men die most.
English poet (1806-1861)
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.
English poet (1806-1861)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
English poet (1806-1861)
How many desolate creatures on the earth have learnt the simple dues of fellowship and social comfort, in a hospital.
English poet (1806-1861)
The Greeks said grandly in their tragic phrase, ‘Let no one be called happy till his death;’ to which I would add, ‘Let no one, till his death, be called unhappy.’
English poet (1806-1861)
If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love’s sake only.
English poet (1806-1861)
He said true things, but called them by wrong names.
English poet (1806-1861)
My sun sets to raise again.
English poet (1806-1861)
An ignorance of means may minister to greatness, but an ignorance of aims make it impossible to be great at all.
English poet (1806-1861)
Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God: But only he who sees takes off his shoes.
English poet (1806-1861)
Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.
English poet (1806-1861)
The beautiful seems right by force of beauty and the feeble wrong because of weakness.
English poet (1806-1861)
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 it.
English poet (1806-1861)
God’s gifts put man’s best dreams to shame.
English poet (1806-1861)
Since when was genius found respectable?
English poet (1806-1861)
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And, ever since, it grew more clean and white.
English poet (1806-1861)
Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
English poet (1806-1861)
What is genius but the power of expressing a new individuality?
English poet (1806-1861)
Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive, half wishing they were dead to save the shame. The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow; They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats, and flare up bodily, wings and all. What then? Who’s sorry for a gnat or girl?
English poet (1806-1861)
But the child’s sob curses deeper in the silence than the strong man in his wrath!
English poet (1806-1861)
Who so loves believes the impossible.
English poet (1806-1861)
You were made perfectly to be loved – and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.
English poet (1806-1861)