“
Friends, though absent, are still present.
— Absence
Friends, though absent, are still present.
It takes time for the absent to assume their true shape in our thoughts. After death they take on a firmer outline and then cease to change.
The absent are never without fault, nor the present without excuse.
Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
Achilles absent, was Achilles still.
In the hope to meetShortly again, and make our absence sweet.
Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated.
Your absence of mind we have borne, till your presence of body came to be called in question by it.
… absence isThe moonlight of affection;
Absence and death are the same—only that in death there is no suffering.
With what a deep devotedness of woeFalls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!
Absent in body, but present in spirit.
Say, is not absence death to those who love?
Condemned whole years in absence to deplore,And image charms he must behold no more.
The absent are like children; they are helpless to defend themselves.
I dote on his very absence, and I wish them a fair departure.
As 'tis ever common That men are merriest when they are from home.
Absences are a good influence in love and keep it bright and delicate.
Greater things are believed of those who are absent.
Conspicuous by his absence.
'Tis said that absence conquers love; But thou art not forgot.
Absent in body, but present in spirit.
Ever absent, ever near;Yet I cannot reach thee, dear!
What shall I do with all the days and hoursBetween this time and that sweet time of grace?
For with G. D., to be absent from the body is sometimes (not to speak it profanely) to be present with the Lord.
Oft in the tranquil hour of night,And wish that thou wert by.
Thou art gone from my gaze like a beautiful dream,And I seek thee in vain by the meadow and stream.
For there's nae luck about the house;When our gudeman's awa.
Days of absence, sad and dreary,She I love is far away.
Among the defects of the bill [Lord Derby's] which are numerous, one provision is conspicuous by its presence and another by its absence.
All days are nights to see till I see thee,And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
How like a winter hath my absence beenWhat old December's bareness everywhere.
Since you have waned from us,The harping of mortals!
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
No friend to Love like a long voyage at sea.
The heart may think it knows better: the senses know that absence blots people out. We have really no absent friends.
Wives in their husband's absences grow subtler, And daughters sometimes run off with the butler.
Absence! is not the soul torn by it The pain without the peace of death!
