Best 12 quotes of Edmund Vance Cooke on MyQuotes

Edmund Vance Cooke

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    But maybe prayer is a road to rise, A mountain path leading toward the skies To assist the spirit who truly tries. But it isn't a shibboleth, creed, nor code, It isn't a pack-horse to carry your load, It isn't a wagon, it's only a road. And perhaps the reward of the spirit who tries Is not the goal, but the exercise!

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    Don't fight with the pillow, but lay down your head And kick every worriment out of the bed.

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    I have seen men march to the wars, and then I have watched their homeward tread, and they brought back bodies of living men, But their eyes were cold and dead.

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    Kisses kept are wasted; Love is to be tasted. There are some you love, I know; Be not loathe to tell them so. Lips go dry and eyes grow wet Waiting to be warmly met. Keep them not in waiting yet; Kisses kept are wasted.

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce Or a trouble is what you make it, And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts, But only how did you take it.

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    Perhaps the reward of the spirit who tries Is not the goal but the exercise.

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    So you tell yourself you are pretty find clay To have tricked temptation and turned it away, But wait, my friend, for a different day; Wait till you want to want to!

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that? Come up with a smiling face, It's nothing against you to fall down flat But to lie there - that's a disgrace.

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    You may batter your way through the thick of the fray, You may sweat, you may swear, you may grunt; You may be a jack-fool, if you must, but this rule Should ever be kept at the front;-- Don't fight with your pillow, but lay down your head And kick every worriment out of the bed.

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    Did you tackle that trouble that came your way With a resolute heart and cheerful? Or hide your face from the light of day With a craven soul and fearful? Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce, Or a trouble is what you make it. And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts, But only how did you take it? (Excerpt from "How Did You Die?")

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    How Did You Die? Did you tackle that trouble that came your way With a resolute heart and cheerful? Or hide your face from the light of day With a craven soul and fearful? Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce, Or a trouble is what you make it. And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts, But only how did you take it? You are beaten to earth? Well, well what's that? Come up with a smiling face. It's nothing against you to fall down flat, But to lie there - that's disgrace. The harder you're thrown, why the higher you bounce; Be proud of your blackened eye! It isn't the fact that you're licked that counts; It's how did you fight and why? And though you be done to death, what then? If you battled the best you could; If you played your part in the world of men, Why the critic will call it good. Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce, And whether he's slow or spry, It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts, But only, how did you die?

  • By Anonym
    Edmund Vance Cooke

    You don't buy poetry. (Neither do I.) Why? You cannot afford it? Bosh! You spend Editions de luxe on a thirsty friend. You can buy any one of the poetry bunch For the price you pay for a business lunch. Don't you suppose that a hungry head, Like an empty stomach, ought to be fed? Looking into myself, I find this true, So I hardly can figure it false in you.