Quotes
Quotes about Wit
Being in a ship is being in a jail, with the chance of being drowned.
Hell is paved with good intentions.
Johnson said that he could repeat a complete chapter of "The Natural History of Iceland" from the Danish of Horrebow, the whole of which was exactly thus: "There are no snakes to be met with throughout the whole island." [Chap. lxxii.]
As the Spanish proverb says, "He who would bring home the wealth of the Indies must carry the wealth of the Indies with him," so it is in travelling,--a man must carry knowledge with him if he would bring home knowledge.
Blown about with every wind of criticism.
As with my hat upon my head
I walk'd along the Strand,
I there did meet another man
With his hat in his hand.
The atrocious crime of being a young man, which the honourable gentleman has with such spirit and decency charged upon me, I shall neither attempt to palliate nor deny; but content myself with wishing that I may be one of those whose follies may cease with their youth, and not of that number who are ignorant in spite of experience.
None without hope e'er lov'd the brightest fair,
But love can hope where reason would despair.
But from the hoop's bewitching round,
Her very shoe has power to wound.
Great wits jump.
The accusing spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in; and the recording angel as he wrote it down dropped a tear upon the word and blotted it out forever.
My banks they are furnish'd with bees,
Whose murmur invites one to sleep.
He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time:
The living throne, the sapphire blaze,
Where angels tremble while they gaze,
He saw; but blasted with excess of light,
Closed his eyes in endless night.
Ruin seize thee, ruthless king!
Confusion on thy banners wait!
Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing,
They mock the air with idle state.
Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame,
With many a foul and midnight murder fed.
Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor.
But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll;
Chill penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
Now as the Paradisiacal pleasures of the Mahometans consist in playing upon the flute and lying with Houris, be mine to read eternal new romances of Marivaux and Crebillon.
A careless song, with a little nonsense in it now and then, does not misbecome a monarch.
The whole [Scotch] nation hitherto has been void of wit and humour, and even incapable of relishing it.
Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspired.
Thy spirit, Independence, let me share;
Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye,
Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare,
Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.
Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
My heart untravell'd fondly turns to thee;
Still to my brother turns with ceaseless pain,
And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
