Quotes
Quotes about Wit
How often in the summer-tide, His graver business set aside, His stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed As to the pipe of Pan, Stepped blithesomely with lover's pride Across the fields to Anne.
He that will win his dame must do As love does when he draws his bow; With one hand thrust the lady from, And with the other pull her home.
She that with poetry is won, Is but a desk to write upon; And what men say of her they mean No more than on the thing they lean.
Some are soon bagg'd but some reject three dozen. 'Tis fine to see them scattering refusals And wild dismay, o'er every angry cousin (Friends of the party) who begin accusals, Such as--"Unless Miss (Blank) meant to have chosen Poor Frederick, why did she accord perusals To his billets? Why waltz with him? Why, I pray, Look yes least night, and yet say No to-day?"
Never wedding, ever wooing, Still a lovelorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing; Wed or cease to woo.
So mourn'd the dame of Ephesus her Love, And thus the Soldier arm'd with Resolution Told his soft Tale, and was a thriving Wooer.
It is with words as with sunbeams--the more they are condensed, the deeper they burn.
Words without actions are the assassins of idealism.
Be not rash with thy mouth, and let not thine heart be hasty to utter any thing before God; for God is in heaven, and thou upon earth: therefore let thy words be few.
Let no man deceive you with vain words: for because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience.
Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge?
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
Boys flying kites haul in their white winged birds; You can't do that way when you're flying words. "Careful with fire," is good advice we know "Careful with words," is ten times doubly so. Thoughts unexpressed may sometimes fall back dead; But God Himself can't kill them when they're said.
The Moral is that gardeners pine, Whene'er no pods adorn the vine. Of all sad words experience gleans, The saddest are: "It might have beans." (The did not make this up myself: 'Twas in a book upon my shelf. It's witty, but I don't deny It's rather Whittier than I.)
All things are full of labour; man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled hearing.
Tools were made and born with hands, Every farmer understands.
Hasten slowly, and without losing heart, put your work twenty times upon the anvil. [Fr., Hatez-vous lentement; et, sans perdre courage, Vingt fois sur le metier remettez votre ouvrage.]
With hand on the spade and heart in the sky Dress the ground and till it; Turn in the little seed, brown and dry, Turn out the golden millet. Work, and your house shall be duly fed: Work, and rest shall be won; I hold that a man had better be dead Than alive when his work is done.
Earned with the sweat of my brows.
'Tis toil's reward, that sweetens industry, As love inspires with strength the enraptur'd thrush.
Too busy with the crowded hour to fear to live or die.
Handle your tools without mittens.
Joy to the Toiler!--him that tills The fields with Plenty crowned; Him with the woodman's axe that thrills The wilderness profound.
But till we are built like angels, with hammer and chisel and pen, We will work for ourself and a woman, for ever and ever, Amen.
Unemployment, with its injustice for the man who seeks and thirsts for employment, who begs for labour and cannot get it, and who is punished for failure he is not responsible for by the starvation of his children--that torture is something that private enterprise ought to remedy for its own sake.
