Quotes
Quotes about Europe
Of which all Europe rings from side to side.
Led by my hand, he saunter'd Europe round,
And gather'd every vice on Christian ground.
What can they see in the longest kingly line in Europe, save that it runs back to a successful soldier?
Through the laburnum's dropping gold
Rose the light shaft of Orient mould,
And Europe's violets, faintly sweet,
Purpled the mossbeds at its feet.
Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
Time may restore us in his course
Goethe's sage mind and Byron's force;
But where will Europe's latter hour
Again find Wordsworth's healing power?
And thus he mused, "From here indeed, shall we strike terror in the Swede. A city built here by our labor, Shall frighten then, our haughty neighbor. A window into Europe, we Shall cut, by Nature's own decree...
In Europe, we tend to see marital love as an eternity which encompasses hate and also indifference. When we promise to love we really mean that we promise to honour a contract
The aura of the theocratic death penalty for adultery still clings to America, even outside New England, and multiple divorce, which looks to the European like serial polygamy, is the moral solution to the problem of the itch
No man is an Island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.
No man is an Island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.
Two great European narcotics, alcohol and Christianity.
The aura of the theocratic death penalty for adultery still clings to America, even outside New England, and multiple divorce, which looks to the European like serial polygamy, is the moral solution to the problem of the itch. Love comes into it too, of course, but in Europe we tend to see marital love as an eternity which encompasses hate and also indifference: when we promise to love we really mean that we promise to honor a contract. Americans, seeming to take marriage with not enough seriousness, are really taking love and sex with too much.
Women have no sympathy and my experience of women is almost as large as Europe.
The coming of the printing press must have seemed as if it would turn the world upside down in the way it spread and, above all, democratized knowledge. Provide you could pay and read, what was on the shelves in the new bookshops was yours for the taking. The speed with which printing presses and their operators fanned out across Europe is extraordinary. From the single Mainz press of 1457, it took only twenty-three years to establish presses in 110 towns: 50 in Ita!0 in Germany, 9 in France, 8 in Spain, 8 in Holland, 4 in England, and so on.
In these troublesome days when the great Mother Empire stands splendidly isolated in Europe.
The Channel is that silver strip of sea which severs merry England from the tardy realms of Europe.
There is a country in Europe where multiple-choice tests are illegal.
I want to the whole of Europe to have one currency; it will make make trading much easier.
The Chinese say that we Europeans have one eye, they themselves two, all the world else is blinde.
Fact: Girls who are having a good sex thing stay in New York. The rest want to spend their summer vacations in Europe.
The American lives even more for his goals, for the future, than the European. Life for him is always becoming, never being.
So let his name through Europe ring! A man of mean estate, Who dies as firm as Sparta's king, Because his soul was great.
The construction of Europe is an art. It is the art of the possible.
Humanism, it seems, is almost impossible in America where material progress is part of the national romance whereas in Europe such progress is relished because it feels nice.
