Quotes
Quotes - More
To those who know thee not, no words can paint!
And those who know thee, know all words are faint!
Since trifles make the sum of human things,
And half our misery from our foibles springs.
In men this blunder still you find,--
All think their little set mankind.
Small habits well pursued betimes
May reach the dignity of crimes.
In men this blunder still you find, All think their little set mankind.
Whosoever loveth me loveth my hound.
They lepe lyke a flounder out of a fryenge panne into the fyre.
No adulation; 'tis the death of virtue; Who flatters, is of all mankind the lowest Save he who courts the flattery.
Hail, guest, we ask not what thou art; If friend, we greet thee, hand and heart; If stranger, such no longer be; If foe, our love shall conquer thee.
Small habits, well pursued betimes, May reach the dignity of crimes.
Sow an action, reap a habit.
O jealousy, Thou ugliest fiend of hell! thy deadly venom Preys on my vitals, turns the healthful hue Of my flesh check to haggard sallowness, And drinks my spirit up!
Fell luxury! more perilous to youth Than storms or quicksands, poverty of chains.
Luxury and dissipation, soft and gentle as their approaches are, and silently as they throw their silken chains about the heart, enslave it more than the most active and turbulent vices.
Give us the luxuries of life, and we will dispense with its necessities.
And it will fall out as in a complication of diseases, that by applying a remedy to one sore, you will provoke another; and that which removes the one ill symptom produces others.
For men use, if they have an evil tourne, to write it in marble; and whoso doth us a good tourne we will write it in duste.
Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off your goal.
Going to the opera, like getting drunk, is a sin that carries its own punishment with it.
He liked those literary cooks Who skim the cream of others' books; And ruin half an author's graces By plucking bon-mots from their places.
Every man has by the law of nature a right to such a waste portion of the earth as is necessary for his subsistence.
A crown! what is it? It is to bear the miseries of a people! To bear the miseries of a people! And sink beneath a load of splendid care!
Whate'er in her Horizon doth appear, She is one Orb of Sense, all Eye, all aiery Ear.
The ordinary arts we practice every day at home are of more importance to the soul than their simplicity might suggest. -Thomas More.
Going to the opera, like getting drunk, is a sin that carries its own punishment with it.
