Quotes
Quotes about Wit
No man is born into the world whose work Is not born with him: there is always work, And tools to work withal, for those who will; And blessed are the horny hand of toil!
Why do strong arms fatigue themselves with frivolous dumb-bells? To dig a vineyard is a worthier exercise for men.
What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.
Heaven is blessed with perfect rest but the blessing of earth is toil.
Beware of the man who works hard to learn something, learns it, and finds himself no wiser than before. He is full of murderous resentment of people who are ignorant without having come by their ignorance the hard way.
The world is filled with willing people; some willing to work, the rest willing to let them.
Wandering between two worlds, one dead, The other powerless to be born With nowhere yet to rest my head, Like these, on earth I wait forlorn.
Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade Of the leaf where you slumbered all day; Be content with the moon and the stars, pretty moth, And make use of your wings while you may. . . . . But tho' dreams of delight may have dazzled you quite, They at last found it dangerous play; Many things in this world that look bright, pretty moth, Only dazzle to lead us astray.
The world is like a board with holes in it, and the square men have got into the round holes, and the round into the square.
But Israel shall be saved in the Lord with an everlasting salvation: ye shall be ashamed nor confounded world without end.
After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands; And cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb.
He sees that this great roundabout, The world, with all its motley rout, Church, army, physic, law, Its customs and its businesses, Is no concern at all of his, And says--what says he?--Caw.
The wide world is all before us-- But a world without a friend.
Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it, we go nowhere.
This is the way the world ends ... Not with a bang but with a whimper.
I am the last man in the world to say that the succor which is given us from America is not in itself something to rejoice at greatly. But I also say that I can see more in the knowledge that America is going to win a right to be at the conference table when the terms of peace are discussed. . . . It would have been a tragedy for mankind if America had not been there, and there with all her influence and power.
It was the human spirit itself that failed at Paris. It is no use passing judgments and making scapegoats of this or that individual statesman or group of statesmen. Idealists make a great mistake in not facing the real facts sincerely and resolutely. They believe in the power of the spirit, in the goodness which is at the heart of things, in the triumph which is in store for the great moral ideals of the race. But this great faith only too often leads to an optimism which is sadly and fatally at variance with actual results. It is the realist and not the idealist who is generally justified by events. We forget that the human spirit, the spirit of goodness and truth in the world, is still only an infant crying in the night, and that the struggle with darkness is as yet mostly an unequal struggle. . . . Paris proved this terrible truth once more. It was not Wilson who failed there, but humanity itself. It was not the statesmen that failed, so much as the spirit of the peoples behind them.
To Woodrow Wilson, the apparent failure, belongs the undying honor, which will grow with the growing centuries, of having saved the "little child that shall lead them yet." No other statesman but Wilson could have done it. And he did it.
People get so in the habit of worry that if you save them from drowning and put them on a bank to dry in the sun with hot chocolate and muffins they wonder whether they are catching cold.
The best cure for worry, depression, melancholy, brooding, is to go deliberately forth and try to lift with one's sympathy the gloom of somebody else.
If you believe that feeling bad or worrying long enough will change a past or future event, then you are residing on another planet with a different reality system.
Spring comes with flowers, autumn with the moon, summer with the breeze, winter with snow. When idle concerns don't fill your thoughts, that's your best season.
Spring comes with flowers, autumn with the moon, summer with the breeze, winter with snow. When idle concerns don't fill your thoughts, that's your best season.
He wakes a portion with judicious care; And "Let us worship God!" he says, with solemn air.
The heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old!-- The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns.
