Quotes
Quotes about Man
If man has good corn, or wood, or boards, or pigs to sell, or can make better chairs or knives, crucibles, or church organs, than anybody else, you will find a broad, hard-beaten road to his house, tho it be in the woods.
Try not to become a man of success but rather try to become a man of value.
The important thing to recognize is that it takes a team, and the team ought to get credit for the wins and the losses. Successes have many fathers, failures have none.
Often an entire city has suffered because of an evil man.
If you strike the goads with your fists, your hands suffer most. [Lat., Si stimulos pugnis caedis manibus plus dolet.]
Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem (quoted by Judy Collins on Diane Rehm Show).
How little it takes to make life unbearable: a pebble in the shoe, a cockroach in the spaghetti, a woman's laugh.
The salvation of the world is in man's suffering.
But if there be an hereafter, And that there is, conscience, uninfluenc'd And suffer'd to speak out, tells every man, Then must it be an awful thing to die; More horrid yet to die by one's own hand.
Fool! I mean not That poor-souled piece of heroism, self-slaughter; Oh no! the miserablest day we live There's many a better thing to do than die!
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of th' unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin?
Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death.
Oh, father's gone to market-town, he was up before the day, And Jamie's after robins, and the man is making hay, And whistling down the hollow goes the boy that minds the mill, While mother from the kitchen door is calling with a will, "Polly!--Polly!--The cows are in the corn! Oh, where's Polly?"
She stood breast-high amid the corn, Clasp'd by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won.
As the long hours do pass away, So doth the life of man decay.
I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work.
O God! methinks it were a happy life To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials, quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes, how they run-- How many makes the hour full complete, How many hours brings about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live; When this is known, then to divide the times-- So many hours must I tend my flock, So many hours must I take my rest, So many hours must I contemplate, So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young, So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean, So many months ere I shall shear the fleece. So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years, Passed over to the end they were created, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. Ah, what a life were this!
We boast our emancipation from many superstitions; but if we have broken any idols, it is through a transfer of idolatry.
Consider your own life-how many times a day does some situation pop up that leads to moments of frustration and anxiety? Surrendering your head to your heart in those moments will lead you to balance and fulfillment. As you listen to your spirit, peace follows. So follow your spirit. Build your foundation in your heart. Love must be your innermost and spontaneous response towards every person you encounter. Say to yourself inside, "I just love." Use these words as a key to start the engine running in your heart and watch life brighten with new love and understanding. Surrender to your new awareness and let love unfold the purpose of creation to you. -Sara Paddison.
It is not necessary to change. Survival is not mandatory.
Without your knowledge, the eyes and ears of many will see and watch you, as they have done already. [Lat., Multorum te etiam oculi et aures non sentientem, sicuti adhuc fecerunt, speculabuntur atque custodient.]
Would he were fatter! But I fear him not. Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius.
A woman of honor should not expect of others things she would not do herself.
The swan, with arched neck Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows Her state with oary feet.
A demon holds a book, in which are written the sins of a particular man; an Angel drops on it from a phial, a tear which the sinner had shed in doing a good action, and his sins are washed out.
