Quotes
Quotes - Burns
And may you better reck the rede, Than ever did th' adviser.
Ah, gentle dames! it gars we greet, To think how mony consels sweet, How mony lengthened, sage advices, The husband frae the wife despises.
Affliction's sons are brothers in distress; A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss!
You can't help getting older, but you don't have to get old.
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.
Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new.
His locked, lettered, braw brass collar, Shewed him the gentleman and scholar.
O wad some power the giftie gie us To see oursel's as ithers see us! It wad frae monie a blunder free us. And foolish notion; What airs in dress and gait wad lea'e us, And ev'n devotion!
And there begins a lang digression About the lords o' the creation.
All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'menGang aft agley. - "To A Mouse".
Good history is a question of survival. Without any past, we will deprive ourselves of the defining impression of our being. -Ken Burns.
There is no such uncertainty as a sure thing.
To liken them to your auld-warld squad, I must needs say comparisons are odd.
Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair.
I'll be merry and free, I'll be sad for nae-body; If nae-body cares for me, I'll care for nae-body.
And wild-scatter'd cowslips bedeck the green dale.
Ilk cowslip cup shall kep a tear.
Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn!
It is cruelty to be humane to rebels, and humanity is cruelty. [Fr., Contre les rebelles c'est cruante que d'estre humain, et humanite d'estre cruel.]
Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn!
The daisy's for simplicity and unaffected air.
Even thou who mournst the daisy's fate, That fate is thine--no distant date; Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives, elate, Full on thy bloom, Till crushed beneath the furrow's weight Shall be thy doom!
There's some are fou o' love divine, There's some are fou' o' brandy.
Inspiring bold John Barleycorn, What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi' tippenny, we fear nae evil; Wi' usquebae, we'll face the devil!
