Quotes
Quotes about Wit
Those who compare the age in which their lot has fallen with a golden age which exists only in imagination, may talk of degeneracy and decay; but no man who is correctly informed as to the past, will be disposed to take a morose or desponding view of the present.
Oh! wherefore come ye forth in triumph from the north,
With your hands and your feet and your raiment all red?
And wherefore doth your rout send forth a joyous shout?
And whence be the grapes of the wine-press which ye tread?
And with the morn those angel faces smile
Which I have loved long since and lost awhile.
There is in stillness oft a magic power
To calm the breast when struggling passions lower,
Touched by its influence, in the soul arise
Diviner feelings, kindred with the skies.
Look out upon the stars, my love,
And shame them with thine eyes.
Dame Fortune is a fickle gipsy,
And always blind, and often tipsy;
Sometimes for years and years together,
She 'll bless you with the sunniest weather,
Bestowing honour, pudding, pence,
You can't imagine why or whence;--
Then in a moment--Presto, pass!--
Your joys are withered like the grass;
England may as well dam up the waters of the Nile with bulrushes as to fetter the step of Freedom, more proud and firm in this youthful land than where she treads the sequestered glens of Scotland, or couches herself among the magnificent mountains of Switzerland.
Sooth 't were a pleasant life to lead,
With nothing in the world to do
But just to blow a shepherd's reed,
The silent season thro'
And just to drive a flock to feed,--
Sheep--quiet, fond and few!
Give me to live with Love alone
And let the world go dine and dress;
For Love hath lowly haunts....
If life's a flower, I choose my own--
'T is "love in Idleness."
Earth is here [Australia] so kind, that just tickle her with a hoe and she laughs with a harvest.
The ugliest of trades have their moments of pleasure. Now, if I were a grave-digger, or even a hangman, there are some people I could work for with a great deal of enjoyment.
I wiped away the weeds and foam,
I fetched my sea-born treasures home;
But the poor, unsightly, noisome things
Had left their beauty on the shore,
With the sun and the sand and the wild uproar.
For what are they all in their high conceit,
When man in the bush with God may meet?
Oh, tenderly the haughty day
Fills his blue urn with fire.
Go put your creed into your deed,
Nor speak with double tongue.
Nor sequent centuries could hit
Orbit and sum of Shakespeare's wit.
Born for success he seemed,
With grace to win, with heart to hold,
With shining gifts that took all eyes.
Too busy with the crowded hour to fear to live or die.
Though love repine, and reason chafe,
There came a voice without reply,--
"'T is man's perdition to be safe
When for the truth he ought to die."
The condition which high friendship demands is ability to do without it.
And with Cæsar to take in his hand the army, the empire, and Cleopatra, and say, "All these will I relinquish if you will show me the fountain of the Nile."
The manly part is to do with might and main what you can do.
Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm.
When Shakespeare is charged with debts to his authors, Landor replies, "Yet he was more original than his originals. He breathed upon dead bodies and brought them into life."
Ye rigid Plowmen! Bear in mind
Your labor is for future hours.
Advance! spare not! nor look behind!
Plow deep and straight with all your powers!
