Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Bells are musics laughter.
Fuss is the froth of business.
The cowslip is a country wench.
Coquetry is the champagne of love.
Comfort and indolence are cronies.
Pity it is to slay the meanest thing.
Jasmine is sweet, and has many loves.
A moment's thinking is an hour in words.
Apothegms form a short cut to much knowledge.
When was ever honey made with one bee in a hive?
Whilst breezy waves toss up their silvery spray.
Alas for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun!
There is even a happiness - that makes the heart afraid.
Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold!
And there is even a happiness That makes the heart afraid.
For my part, getting up seems not so easy By half as lying.
My tears must stop, for every drop Hinders needle and thread.
No blessed leisure for love or hope, But only time for grief.
Extremes meet', as the whiting said with its tail in its mouth.
'Extremes meet', as the whiting said with its tail in its mouth.
The lily is all in white, like a saint, And so is no mate for me.
But evil is wrought by want of thought, As well as want of heart!
A man that's fond precociously of stirring , :;:; Must be a spoon.
How bless'd the heart that has a friend. A sympathizing ear to lend.
For man may pious texts repeat, And yet religion have no inward seat
Oh! God! That bread should be so dear, and flesh and blood so cheap!
The biggest bore of all is he who is overflowing with congratulations
O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head.
The best of friends fall out, and so his teeth had done some years ago.
There is not a string attuned to mirth but has its chord of melancholy.
So mayst thou live, dear! many years, In all the bliss that life endears
My books kept me from the ring, the dog-pit, the tavern, and the saloon.
To attempt to advise conceited people is like whistling against the wind.
When he is forsaken, Withered and shaken, What can an old man do but die?
A certain portion of the human race has certainly a taste for being diddled.
Half of the failures in life come from pulling one's horse when he is leaping.
Such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn.
There's a double beauty whenever a swan Swims on a lake with her double thereon.
A name, it has more than nominal worth, And belongs to good or bad luck at birth
Oh, if it be to choose and call thee mine, love, thou art every day my Valentine!
How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way, Tormenting himself with his prickles.
Frost is the greatest artist in our clime - he paints in nature and describes in rime.
Dear bells! how sweet the sound of village bells When on the undulating air they swim!
I saw old autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence.
What is mind? No matter. What is matter? Never mind. What is the soul? It is immaterial.
Oh would I were dead now, Or up in my bed now, To cover my head now, And have a good cry!
Boughs are daily rifled By the gusty thieves, And the book of Nature Getteth short of leaves.
Sweet are the little brooks that run O'er pebbles glancing in the sun, Singing in soothing tones.
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds - November!