Quotes
Quotes about Kings
Farce follow'd Comedy, and reach'd her prime. In ever-laughing Foote's fantastic time; Mad wag! who pardon'd none, nor spared the best, And turn'd some very serious things to jest. Nor church nor state escaped his public sneers, Arms nor the gown, priests, lawyers, volunteers; "Alas, poor Yorick!" now forever mute! Whoever loves a laugh must sigh for Foote. We smile, perforce, when histrionic scenes Ape the swoln dialogue of kings and queens, When "Chrononhotonthelogos must die," And Arthur struts in mimic majesty.
Know when to speake; for many times it brings Danger to give the best advice to kings.
In ancient times, the sacred Plough employ'd The Kings and awful Fathers of mankind: And some, with whom compared your insect-tribes Are but the beings of a summer's day, Have held the Scale of Empire, ruled the Storm Of mighty War; then, with victorious hand, Disdaining little delicacies, seized The Plough, and, greatly independent, scorned All the vile stores corruption can bestow.
He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt.
That place that does contain My books, the best companions, is to me A glorious court, where hourly I converse With the old sages and philosophers; And sometimes, for variety, I confer With kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels; Calling their victories, if unjustly got, Unto a strict account, and, in my fancy, Deface their ill-placed statues.
What infinite heart's-ease Must kings neglect that private men enjoy! And what have kings that privates have not too, Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
Who has not marveled at the might of kings When voyaging down the river of dead years? What deeds of death to still an hour of fears, What waste of wealth to gild a moth's frail wings! A Caesar to the breeze his banner flings, An Alexander with his bloody spears, A Herod heedless of his people's tears! And Rome in ruin while Nero laughs and sings: Ye actors of a drama, cruel and cold, Your names are by-words in Love's temple now, Your pomp and glory but a winding-sheet; Then Christ came scorning regal power and gold To wear warm blood-drops on a willing brow, And we, in love, forever kiss His feet.
Feast of Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna, Martyr, c.155 Grace tried is better than grace, and it is more than grace, it is glory in its infancy. I now see godliness is more than the outside and this world's passments and their buskings [i.e., ornaments and fine dress]. Who knoweth the truth of grace without a trial? O how little getteth Christ of us, but that which he winneth (to speak so) with much toil and pains! And how soon would faith freeze without a cross?
What babe new born is this that in a manger cries? Near on her lowly bed his happy mother lies. Oh, see the air is shaken with white and heavenly wings-- This is the Lord of all the earth, this is the King of Kings.
'Twas the night before Christman, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring,--not even a mouse: The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
Ten poor men sleep in peace on one straw heap, as Saadi sings, But the immensest empire is too narrow for two kings.
Others import yet nobler arts from France, Teach kings to fiddle, and make senates dance.
The people are fashioned according to the example of their kings; and edicts are of less power than the life of their ruler. [Lat., Componitur orbis Regis ad exemplum; nec sic inflectere sensus Humanos edicta valent, quam vita regentis.]
'Tis Fate that flings the dice, And as she flings Of kings makes peasants, And of peasants kings.
They do not abuse the king that flatter him. For flattery is the bellows blows up sin; The thing the which is flattered, but a spark To which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing; Whereas reproof, obedient and in order, Fits kings as they are men, for they may err.
The tumult and the shouting dies, The captains and the kings depart; Still stands thine ancient sacrifice, A humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet Lest we forget,--lest we forget.
I have friends in overalls whose friendship I would not swap for the favor of the kings of the world.
From thee all human actions take their springs, The rise of empires, and the fall of kings.
Commerce has set the mark of selfishness, The signet of its all-enslaving power Upon a shining ore, and called it gold; Before whose image bow the vulgar great, The vainly rich, the miserable proud, The mob of peasants, nobles, priests, and kings, And with blind feelings reverence the power That grinds them to the dust of misery. But in the temple of their hireling hearts Gold is a living god, and rules in scorn All earthly things but virtue.
Hear ye not the hum Of mighty workings?
Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy coming: it stirreth up the dead for thee, even all the cheif ones of the earth; it hath raised up from their thrones all the kings of the nations.
I cannot be indifferent to the assassination of a member of my profession, We should be obliged to shut up business if we, the Kings, were to consider the assassination of Kings as of no consequence at all.
The supreme, the merciless, the destroyer of opposition, the exalted King, the shepherd, the protector of the quarters of the world, the King the word of whose mouth destroys mountains and seas, who by his lordly attack has forced mighty and merciless Kings from the rising of the sun to the setting of the same to acknowledge one supremacy.
In a few years there will be only five kings in the worldâthe King of England and the four kings in a pack of cards.
How small of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure! Still to ourselves in every place consigned, Our own felicity we make or find. With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, Glides the smooth current of domestic joy.
