Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
And what's a life? - a weary pilgrimage, Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage With childhood, manhood, and decrepit age.
I have a faithful joy and a joy that is lost. One is like a rose, the other, a thorn. The one that was stolen I have not lost.
A maiden's first kiss cometh hard, yea, it is as the first olive out of a bottle, requiring much skill; but the rest are easy.
Of him that speakes ill, consider the life more then the word. [Of him that speaks ill, consider the life more than the word.]
Can there be anything more sad than a girl dying on the day of her first communion, in her new dress. A little bride of death.
I may be wrong, but it seems rare in our age to find a widely praised person whose own mouth is not the source of that praise.
Men are ready to suffer anything from others or from heaven itself, provided that, when it comes to words, they are untouched.
When you use the term minority or minorities in reference to people, you're telling them that they're less than somebody else.
When you can make others laugh with jokes that belittle no one and your words always unite, Hafiz will vote for you to be God.
It is extremely difficult for a Jew to be converted, for how can he bring himself to believe in the divinity of - another Jew?
Our souls must become expanded by the contemplation of Nature's grandeur, before we can fully comprehend the greatness of man.
In vain would I seek to discover Why sad and mournful am I, My thoughts without ceasing brood over A tale of the time gone by.
The human longing for story is so powerful, so primitive, that it seems like something not learned, but locked into our genes.
I, a Laconian dog, can bite again: Yes, I can make the Daunian tiger flee, Much more a bragging, foul-mouth'd whelp like thee.
How beautiful the silent hour, when morning and evening thus sit together, hand in hand, beneath the starless sky of midnight!
The twilight is sad and cloudy, The wind blows wild and free, And like the wings of sea-birds Flash the white caps of the sea.
For the structure that we raise, Time is with materials filled; Our to-days and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build.
You are only afraid if you are not in harmony with yourself. People are afraid because they have never owned up to themselves.
It is not for me to judge another man's life. I must judge, I must choose, I must spurn, purely for myself. For myself, alone.
It was lovely, and tempting, to exert power over men and to shine before others, but power also had its perditions and perils.
Admire a small ship, but put your freight in a large one; for the larger the load, the greater will be the profit upon profit.
Sad people dislike the happy, and the happy the sad; the quick thinking the sedate, and the careless the busy and industrious.
Alas, Postumus, the fleeting years slip by, nor will piety give any stay to wrinkles and pressing old age and untamable death.
Let us both small and great push forward in this work, in this pursuit, if to our country, if to ourselves we would live dear.
Misfortunes, untoward events, lay open, disclose the skill of a general, while success conceals his weakness, his weak points.
Fate with impartial hand turns out the doom of high and low; her capacious urn is constantly shaking the names of all mankind.
In truth it is best to learn wisdom, and abandoning all nonsense, to leave it to boys to enjoy their season of play and mirth.
Suffering is but another name for the teaching of experience, which is the parent of instruction and the schoolmaster of life.
The treatment of African and African American culture in our education was no different from their treatment in Tarzan movies.
There's nothing quite like a Scotch education. One is left with an irreparable debt. My head is full of irregular verbs still.
The dandelions and buttercups gild all the lawn: the drowsy bee stumbles among the clover tops, and summer sweetens all to me.
Once to every person and nation come the moment to decide. In the conflict of truth with falsehood, for the good or evil side.
The snow had begun in the gloaming, and busily all the night had been heaping field and highway with a silence deep and white.
The quiet tenderness of Chaucer, where you almost seem to hear the hot tears falling, and the simple choking words sobbed out.
Men! whose boast it is that ye Come of fathers brave and free, If there breathe on earth a slave, Are ye truly free and brave?
Our seasons have no fixed returns, Without our will they come and go; At noon our sudden summer burns, Ere sunset all is snow.
All that hath been majestical In life or death, since time began, Is native in the simple heart of all, The angel heat of man.
One way poetry connects is across time. . . . Some echo of a writer's physical experience comes into us when we read her poem.
The red Sahara in an angry glow, / With amber fogs, across its hollows trailed / Long strings of camels, gloomy-eyed and slow.
From the beginning. I was a poem-writing child. I wrote little novels in my composition book when I was eight, nine years old.
O lovely Sisters! is it true That they are all inspired by you, And write by inward magic charm'd, And high enthusiasm warm'd?
The inward sighs of humble penitence Rise to the ear of Heaven, when peal'd hymns Are scatter'd with the sounds of common air.
Tell me how much a nation knows about its own language, and I will tell you how much that nation knows about its own identity.
How many times go we to comedies, to masques, to places of great and noble resort, nay even to church only to see the company.
Ah, how sweet it is to love! Ah, how gay is young Desire! And what pleasing pains we prove When we first approach Love's fire!
But when to sin our biased nature leans, The careful Devil is still at hand with means; And providently pimps for ill desires.
Is there another Life? Shall I awake and find all this a dream? There must be we cannot be created for this sort of suffering.
From that high mount of God whence light and shade Spring both, the face of brightest heaven had changed To grateful twilight.
Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded, But must be current, and the good thereof Consists in mutual and partaken bliss.
Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe.