Quotes
Quotes about Vow
All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one.
When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
Lends the tongue vows.
Ease would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
Our vows are heard betimes! and Heaven takes care
To grant, before we can conclude the prayer:
Preventing angels met it half the way,
And sent us back to praise, who came to pray.
Let us embrace, and from this very moment vow an eternal misery together.
Vows with so much passion, swears with so much grace,
That 't is a kind of heaven to be deluded by him.
Some to church repair,
Not for the doctrine, but the music there.
These equal syllables alone require,
Though oft the ear the open vowels tire;
While expletives their feeble aid to join,
And ten low words oft creep in one dull line.
Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe,
Bold I can meet,--perhaps may turn his blow!
But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send,
Save, save, oh save me from the candid friend!
Oh, weep for the hour
When to Eveleen's bower
The lord of the valley with false vows came.
It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the hour when lovers' vows
Seem sweet in every whisper'd word.
The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself.
Virginal shy lights,
Wrought of the leaves to allure to the whisper of vows,
When lovers pace timidly down through the green colonnades
Of the dim sweet woods, of the dear dark woods,
Of the heavenly woods and glades,
That run to the radiant marginal sand-beach within
The wide sea-marshes of Glynn.
Better is it that thou shouldest not vow, than that thou shouldest vow and not pay.
Vow me no vows.
A DEEP-SWORN VOW Others because you did not keep That deep-sworn vow have been friends of mine; Yet always when I look death in the face, When I clamber to the heights of sleep, Or when I grow excited with wine, Suddenly I meet your face.
The Herdsman and the Lost Bull A herdsman tending his flock in a forest lost a Bull-calf from the fold. After a long and fruitless search, he made a vow that, if he could only discover the thief who had stolen the Calf, he would offer a lamb in sacrifice to Hermes, Pan, and the Guardian Deities of the forest. Not long afterwards, as he ascended a small hillock, he saw at its foot a Lion feeding on the Calf. Terrified at the sight, he lifted his eyes and his hands to heaven, and said: Just now I vowed to offer a lamb to the Guardian Deities of the forest if I could only find out who had robbed me; but now that I have discovered the thief, I would willingly add a full-grown Bull to the Calf I have lost, if I may only secure my own escape from him in safety.
I think that one of the qualifications of artists should be a vow of celibacy. They should be confined to ruining only their own lives.
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, That sucked the honey of his music vows, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason Like sweet bells jangled, out of time and harsh, That unmatched form and feature of blown youth Blasted with ecstasy.
I think that one of the qualifications of artists should be a vow of celibacy. They should be confined to ruining only their own lives.
O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there, From me, whose love was of that dignity That it went hand in hand even with the vow I made to her in marriage, and to decline Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor To those of mine!
"Good, well-dress'd turtle beats them hollow,-- It almost makes me wish, I vow, To have two stomachs, like a cow!" And lo! as with the cud, an inward thrill Upheaved his waistcoat and disturb'd his frill, His mouth was oozing, and he work'd his jaw-- "I almost that that I could eat one raw."
It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard; It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whispered word; And gentle winds, and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softly dark, and darkly pure. Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe; Bold I can meet--perhaps may turn his blow; But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send, Save, save, oh! save me from the candid friend.
Green, slender, leaf-clad holly boughs Were twisted gracefu' round her brows, I took her for some Scottish Muse, By that same token, An' come to stop those reckless vows, Would soon be broken.
It's like a convent, the hospital. You leave the world behind and take vows of poverty, chastity, obedience.
