Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Do not yield to misfortunes, but advance more boldly to meet them, as your fortune permits you.
One cannot spend one's time in being modern when there are so many more important things to be.
Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus! Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me.
Pride (of all others the most dang'rous fault) Proceeds from want of sense, or want of thought.
Whatever mourns when many leave these shores: Whatever shares The eternal reciprocity of tears.
And that was the way The deuce was to pay As it always is, at the close of the day That gave us
Great conquests trouble, where contempt may please -- the one yields glory, and the other ease.
It is the familiar that usually eludes us in life. What is before our nose is what we see last.
Without Unceasing Practice nothing can be done. Practice is Art. If you leave off you are lost.
Improvement makes strait roads, but the crooked roads without Improvement, are roads of Genius.
The Man who pretends to be a modest enquirer into the truth of a self-evident thing is a Knave.
It is love that I am seeking for, But of a beautiful, unheard-of kind That is not in the world.
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings.
Lived in his saddle, loved the chase, the course, And always, ere he mounted, kiss'd his horse.
Our possessions are wholly in our performances. He owns nothing to whom the world owes nothing.
No distinction is 'tween man and man, But as his virtues add to him a glory Or vices cloud him.
The voice of parents is the voice of gods, for to their children they are heaven's lieutenants.
So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend: thy love ne'er alter, till they sweet life end
All days are nights to see till I see thee, And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Now 'tis spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; Suffer them now and they'll o'ergrow the garden.
All his successors gone before him have done 't; and all his ancestors that come after him may.
If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i' th' shell.
What I have done is yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in all I have, devoted yours.
To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, gives in your weakness strength unto your foe.
Be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's and truth's.
Virtue preserv'd from fell destruction's blast, Led on by heaven, and crown'd with joy at last.
The seasons change their manners, as the year Had found some months asleep and leapt them over.
I have heard it said There is an art which in their piedness shares With great creating nature.
The Dear father Would with his daughter speak, commands her service; Are they inform'd of this?
Aand in the end, Having my freedom, boast of nothing else But that I was a journeyman to grief?
'Tis thought the king is dead; we will not stay. The bay trees in our country are all wither'd.
Like the lily That once was mistress of the field and flourished, I'll hang my head and perish.
When remedies are past, the griefs are ended By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
I that please some, try all, both joy and terror Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error.
Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me
The band that seems to tie their friendship together will be the very strangler of their amity.
Of every noble work the silent part is best; of all expression, that which cannot be expressed.
Spade! Thou art a tool of honor in my hands. I press thee, through a yielding soil, with pride.
No one in my family has ever died of love. What happened, happened, but nothing myth-inspiring.
Don't worry about people from your past there's a reason why they didn't make it to your future.
Poetry can open locked chambers of possibiity, restore numbed zones to feeling, recharge desire.
I've had to guess at her, sewing her skin together as I sew mine, though with a different stitch
He shall fall down into a pit called Because, and there he shall perish with the dogs of reason.
The vanity of human life is like a river, constantly passing away, and yet constantly coming on.
Choose a firm cloud before it fall, and in it Catch, ere she change, the Cynthia of this minute.
One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight; Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight.
Where grows?--where grows it not? If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.
All looks yellow to the jaundiced eye. [and therefore the solution is to fix the jaundiced eye.]
We bury love; Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.