Quotes
Quotes about Man
No man was ever endowed with a right without being at the same time saddled with a responsibility.
Many a person seems to think it isn't enough for the government to guarantee him the pursuit of happiness. He insists it also run interference for him.
No man has a right to do what he pleases, except when he pleases to do right.
Be wary of the man who urges an action in which he himself incurs no risk.
The general fact is that the most effective way of utilizing human energy is through an organized rivalry, which by specialization and social control is, at the same time, organized co-operation.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree; Where Alph, the sacred river ran, Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.
Yet I will look upon thy face again, My own romantic Bronx, and it will be A face more pleasant than the face of men. Thy waves are old companions, I shall see A well remembered form in each old tree And hear a voice long loved in thy wild minstrelsy.
And see the rivers how they run Through woods and meads, in shade and sun, Sometimes swift, sometimes slow,-- Wave succeeding wave, they go A various journey to the deep, Like human life to endless sleep!
On fair Britania's isle, bright bird, A legend strange is told of thee,-- 'Tis said thy blithesome song was hushed While Christ toiled up Mount Calvary, Bowed 'neath the sins of all mankind; And humbled to the very dust By the vile cross, while viler men Mocked with a crown of thorns the Just. Pierced by our sorrows, and weighed down By our transgressions,--faint and weak, Crushed by an angry Judge's frown, And agonies no word can speak,-- 'Twas then, dear bird, the legend says That thou, from out His crown, didst tear The thorns, to lighten the distress And ease the pain that he must bear, While pendant from thy tiny beak The gory points thy bosom pressed, And crimsoned with thy Saviour's blood The sober brownness of thy breast! Since which proud hour for thee and thine. As an especial sign of grace God pours like sacramental wine Red signs of favor o'er thy race!
The Redbreast, sacred to the household gods, Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky, In joyless fields and thorny thickets leaves His shivering mates, and pays to trusted Man His annual visit.
Art thou the bird whom Man loves best, The pious bird with the scarlet breast, Our little English Robin; The bird that comes about our doors When autumn winds are sobbing?
She had been forced into prudence in her youth, she learned romance as she grew older - the natural sequence of an unnatural beginning.
Romances paint at full length people's wooings, But only give a bust of marriages: For no one cares for matrimonial cooings. There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss. Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife, He would have written sonnets all his life?
Parent of golden dreams, Romance! Auspicious queen of childish joys, Who lead'st along, in airy dance, Thy votive train of girls and boys.
He loved the twilight that surrounds The border-land of old romance; Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance, And banner waves, and trumpet sounds, And ladies ride with hawk on wrist, And mighty warriors sweep along, Magnified by the purple mist, The dusk of centuries and of song.
Romance is the poetry of literature.
Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
Men always want to be a woman's first love. Women have a more subtle instinct: What they like is to be a man's last romance.
If you are at Rome live in the Roman style; if you are elsewhere live as they live elsewhere. [Lat., Si fueris Romae, Romano vivito more; Si fueris alibi, vivito sicut ibi.]
When I am at Rome I fast as the Romans do; when I am at Milan I do not fast. So likewise you, whatever church you come to, observe the custom of the place, if you would neither give offence to others, nor take offence from them.
What Roman power slowly built, an unarmed traitor instantly overthrew. [Lat., Quod tantis Romana manus contexuit annis Proditur unus iners angusto tempore vertit.]
I had rather be a dog and bay the moon Than such a Roman.
Would that the Roman people had but one neck! [Lat., Utinam populus Romanus unam cervicem haberet!]
Yon rose-buds in the morning-dew, How pure amang the leaves sae green!
Rose were sette of swete savour, With many roses that thei bere.
