Quotes
Quotes about Wit
A man has to live with himself, and he should see to it that he always has good company.
To fly from, need not be to hate, makind: All are not fit with them to stir and toil, Nor is it discontent to keep the mind Deep in its fountain. - Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, 1818.
You cannot be lonely if you like the person you're alone with.
Speaking much is a sign of vanity, for he that is lavish with words is a niggard in deed.
The greatest test of courage on earth is to bear defeat without losing heart.
If you are losing a tug of war with a tiger, give him the rope before he gets to your arm. You can always buy a new rope.
Oh, my friend, it's not what they take away from you that counts. It's what you do with what you have left.
A son could bear with great complacency, the death of his father, while the loss of his inheritance might drive him to despair. [Lat., Gli huomini dimenticano piu teste la morte del padre, che la perdita del patrimonie.]
No evil is without its compensation. The less money, the less trouble; the less favor, the less envy. Even in those cases which put us out of wits, it is not the loss itself, but the estimate of the loss that troubles us.
I seek for one as fair and gay, But find none to remind me, How blest the hours pass'd away With the girl I left behind me.
Mysterious love, uncertain treasure, Hast thou more of pain or pleasure! . . . . Endless torments dwell above thee: Yet who would live, and live without thee!
For 'tis impossible Hate to return with love. [It., Che amar chi t'odia, ell'e impossibil cosa.]
Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get, it's what you are expected to give--which is everything.
Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours For one lone soul another lonely soul, Each choosing each through all the weary hours, And meeting strangely at one sudden goal, Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers, Into one beautiful and perfect whole; And life's long night is ended, and the way Lies open onward to eternal day.
One sweet, sad secret holds my heart in thrall; A mighty love within my breast has grown, Unseen, unspoken, and of no one known; And of my sweet, who gave it, least of all. [Fr., Ma vie a son secret, mon ame a son mystere: Un amour eternel en un moment concu. La mal est sans remede, aussi j'ai du le taire, Et elle qui l'a fait n'en a jamais rien su.]
Love your friend with his faults.
Love and relationships are truly one of the most paradoxical aspects of being human. For it is in love that we find the greatest of strengths and the deepest of sorrows. Love can seem to be so fleeting and unachievable yet it remains well within our reach if we only learn how to embrace it's power. To experience true love, we must be willing to open ourselves up and sacrifice part of our heart and part of our soul. We must be willing to give of ourselves freely, and we must be willing to suffer. It is only when we expose our inner selves to the white hot flame of rejection, that love can burn so brightly as to join to souls, melding the two into one, creating a bond that joins forever. It is from this bond that we draw strength eternal and power ever lasting. It is in this thing that we call love that we find the means to achieve greatness, both in ourselves and in our lives.
Love not sleep, lest thou come to poverty; open thine eyes, and thou shalt be satisfied with bread.
I love a hand that meets my own with a grasp that causes some sensation.
He that falls in love with himself will have no rivals.
'Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame: it wounds one, another it kills: like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment: it makes that fort yield at night which it besieged but in the morning; for there is no force able to resist it.
Love is the extra effort we make in our dealings with those whom we do not like and once you understand that, you understand all. This idea that love overtakes you is nonsense. This is but a polite manifestation of sex. To love another you have to undertake some fragment of their destiny.
Love, with very young people, is a heartless business. We drink at that age from thirst, or to get drunk; it is only later in life that we occupy ourselves with the individuality of our wine.
Love won't be tampered with, love won't go away. Push it to one side and it creeps to the other.
Love is union with somebody, or something, outside oneself, under the condition of retaining the separateness and integrity of one's own self.
