Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Reason is so unreasonable, that few people can say they are in possession of it.
No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse -- borne away with every breath!
Her great merit is finding out mine; there is nothing so amiable as discernment.
Her great merit is finding out mine - there is nothing so amiable as discernment.
The drying up a single tear has more, of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.
I have a notion that gamblers are as happy as most people - being always excited.
Romances paint at full length people's wooing. But only give a bust of marriages.
When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted, To sever for years.
Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? It doth; but actions are our epochs.
Oh, Mirth and Innocence! Oh, Milk and Water! Ye happy mixture of more happy days!
A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
As falls the dew on quenchless sands, blood only serves to wash ambition's hands.
Glory, like the phoenix 'midst her fires, Exhales her odours, blazes, and expires.
Have not all past human beings parted, And must not all the present, one day part?
The poor dog, in life the firmest friend. The first to welcome, foremost to defend.
Love rules the camp, the court, the grove - for love is Heaven, and Heaven is love.
He who is only just is cruel; who Upon the earth would live were all judged justly?
Religion-freedom-vengeance-what you will, A word's enough to raise mankind to kill.
Society is now one polished horde, formed of two mighty tries, the Bores and Bored.
A legal broom's a moral chimney-sweeper, And that's the reason he himself's so dirty
The art of angling, the cruelest, the coldest and the stupidest of pretended sports.
Men are the sport of circumstances when it seems circumstances are the sport of men.
Such hath it been--shall be--beneath the sun The many still must labour for the one.
Shakespeare's name, you may depend on it, stands absurdly too high and will go down.
Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, sermons and soda water the day after.
I've seen your stormy seas and stormy women, And pity lovers rather more than seamen.
Muse of the many twinkling feet, whose charms are now extending up from legs to arms.
Retirement accords with the tone of my mind; I will not descend to a world I despise.
By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see For one who hath no friend, no brother there.
O Gold! I still prefer thee unto paper, which makes bank credit like a bark of vapour.
The truly brave are soft of heart and eyes, and feel for what their duty bids them do.
And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me!
One of the pleasures of reading old letters is the knowledge that they need no answer.
Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see What Heaven hath done for this delicious land!
For through the South the custom still commands The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands.
Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure; men love in haste but they detest at leisure.
He scratched his ear, the infallible resource to which embarrassed people have recourse.
Mark! Where his carnage and his conquests cease, He makes a solitude and calls it-peace!
Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.
'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark our coming, and look brighter when we come.
That famish'd people must be slowly nurst, and fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space.
It is very iniquitous to make me pay my debts, you have no idea of the pain it gives one.
I have always believed that all things depended upon Fortune, and nothing upon ourselves.
Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife, He would have written sonnets all his life?.
The devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice, An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.
For a man to become a poet (witness Petrarch and Dante), he must be in love, or miserable.
Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, For jealousy dislikes the world to know it.