Quotes
Quotes about Pen
Between the two seas the sea-bird's wing makes halt, Wind-weary; while with lifting head he waits For breath to reinspire him from the gates That open still toward sunrise on the vault High-domed of morning. - Algernon Charles Swinburne,
In a way winter is the real spring, the time when the inner things happen, the resurge of nature.
But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.
If money is your hope for independence you will never have it. The only real security that a man will have in this world is a reserve of knowledge, experience, and ability.
All of us, who are worth anything, spend our manhood in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our youth.
Be sober, and to doubt prepense, These are the sinews of good sense.
'Tis use alone that sanctifies expense And splendor borrow all her rays from sense.
If someone listens, or strectches out a hand, or whispers a kind word of encouragement, or attempts to understand a lonely person, extraordinary things begin to happen. -Loretta Girzartis.
Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis and talk too much of Prosperpina and Jupiter. Why, here's our fellow Shakespeare puts them all down. Aye, and Ben Jonson too. O that B.J. is a pestilent fellow, he brought up Horace giving poets a pill, but our fellow, Shakespeare, hath given him a purge that made him beray his credit.
Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lie A little nearer Spenser, to make room For Shakespeare in your threefold, fourfold tomb.
I remember, the players have often mentioned it as an honour to Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never plotted out a line. My answer hath been, would he had blotted a thousand.
Why, then the world 's mine oyster, Which I with sword will open. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 2.
A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1.
By my penny of observation. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear! -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.
What! wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice? -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, is--to die.
Most of the luxuries, and many of the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind. With respect to luxuries and comforts, the wisest have even lived a more simple and meagre life than the poor. -Henry David Thoreau.
But the trail of the serpent is over them all.
The sinning is the best part of repentance.
Three merry boys, and three merry boys, And three merry boys are we, As ever did sing in a hempen string Under the gallow-tree.
His tongue is now a stringless instrument; Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
