Quotes
Quotes - Taylor
Though man a thinking being is defined,
Few use the grand prerogative of mind.
How few think justly of the thinking few!
How many never think, who think they do!
Far from mortal cares retreating,
Sordid hopes and vain desires,
Here, our willing footsteps meeting,
Every heart to heaven aspires.
I thank the goodness and the grace
Which on my birth have smiled,
And made me, in these Christian days,
A happy Christian child.
Oh that it were my chief delight
To do the things I ought!
Then let me try with all my might
To mind what I am taught.
Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My mother.
His food
Was glory, which was poison to his mind
And peril to his body.
The world knows nothing of its greatest men.
An unreflected light did never yet
Dazzle the vision feminine.
He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend.
Eternity mourns that. 'T is an ill cure
For life's worst ills, to have no time to feel them.
Where sorrow's held intrusive and turned out,
There wisdom will not enter, nor true power,
Nor aught that dignifies humanity.
We figure to ourselves
The thing we like; and then we build it up,
As chance will have it, on the rock or sand,--
For thought is tired of wandering o'er the world,
And homebound Fancy runs her bark ashore.
Such souls,
Whose sudden visitations daze the world,
Vanish like lightning, but they leave behind
A voice that in the distance far away
Wakens the slumbering ages.
Till the sun grows cold,
And the stars are old,
And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold.
They sang of love, and not of fame;
Forgot was Britain's glory;
Each heart recalled a different name,
But all sang Annie Lawrie.
The bravest are the tenderest,--
The loving are the daring.
Shelved round us lie
The mummied authors.
Self-denial is painful for a moment, but very agreeable in the end.
Where there are large powers with little ambition... nature may be said to have fallen short of her purposes.
A bore is a man who, when you ask him how he is, tells you.
While we are mourning the loss of our friend, others are rejoicing to meet him behind the veil.
Death came with friendly care; The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And bade it blossom there.
Men are apt to prefer a prosperous error to an afflicted truth.
We figure to ourselves The thing we like, and then we build it up As chance will have it, on the rock or sand: For Thought is tired of wandering o'er the world, And homebound Fancy runs her bark ashore.
History is not another name for the past, as many people imply. It is the name for stories about the past.
A good wife is heaven's last, best gift to man, - his gem of many virtues, his casket of jewels; her voice is sweet music, her smiles his brightest day, her kiss the guardian of his innocence, her arms the pale of his safety...
It is impossible to make people understand their ignorance, for it requires knowledge to perceive it; and, therefore, he that can perceive it hath it not.
