Quotes

Quotes - Butler


Like feather bed betwixt a wall
And heavy brunt of cannon ball.

Samuel Butler

Ay me! what perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron!

Samuel Butler

Who thought he 'd won
The field as certain as a gun.

Samuel Butler

Nor do I know what is become
Of him, more than the Pope of Rome.

Samuel Butler

I 'll make the fur
Fly 'bout the ears of the old cur.

Samuel Butler

He had got a hurt
O' the inside, of a deadlier sort.

Samuel Butler

These reasons made his mouth to water.

Samuel Butler

While the honour thou hast got
Is spick and span new.

Samuel Butler

With mortal crisis doth portend
My days to appropinque an end.

Samuel Butler

For those that run away and fly,
Take place at least o' the enemy.

Samuel Butler

I am not now in fortune's power:
He that is down can fall no lower.

Samuel Butler

Cheer'd up himself with ends of verse
And sayings of philosophers.

Samuel Butler

If he that in the field is slain
Be in the bed of honour lain,
He that is beaten may be said
To lie in honour's truckle-bed.

Samuel Butler

When pious frauds and holy shifts
Are dispensations and gifts.

Samuel Butler

Friend Ralph, thou hast
Outrun the constable at last.

Samuel Butler

Some force whole regions, in despite
O' geography, to change their site;
Make former times shake hands with latter,
And that which was before come after.
But those that write in rhyme still make
The one verse for the other's sake;
For one for sense, and one for rhyme,
I think's sufficient at one time.

Samuel Butler

Some have been beaten till they know
What wood a cudgel's of by th' blow;
Some kick'd until they can feel whether
A shoe be Spanish or neat's leather.

Samuel Butler

No Indian prince has to his palace
More followers than a thief to the gallows.

Samuel Butler

Quoth she, I 've heard old cunning stagers
Say fools for arguments use wagers.

Samuel Butler

Love in your hearts as idly burns
As fire in antique Roman urns.

Samuel Butler

For what is worth in anything
But so much money as 't will bring?

Samuel Butler

Love is a boy by poets styl'd;
Then spare the rod and spoil the child.

Samuel Butler

The sun had long since in the lap
Of Thetis taken out his nap,
And, like a lobster boil'd, the morn
From black to red began to turn.

Samuel Butler

Have always been at daggers-drawing,
And one another clapper-clawing.

Samuel Butler

For truth is precious and divine,--
Too rich a pearl for carnal swine.

Samuel Butler

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