Quote

Courage is poorly housed that dwells in numbers the lion never counts the herd that are about him, nor weighs how many flocks he has to scatter.

Aaron Hill

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Aaron Hill
Age: 64 †
Born: 1685
Born: February 10
Died: 1750
Died: February 8
Essayist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Lion
Housed
Counts
Scatter
Lions
Weighs
Courage
Dwells
Numbers
Herd
Many
Poorly
Never
Flocks
Herds

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Order, thou eye of action.
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Reason gains all people by compelling none.
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Tender-handed stroke a nettle, And it stings you for your pains Grasp it like a man of mettle, And it soft as silk remains. 'Tis the same with common natures: Use 'em kindly, they rebel But be rough as nutmeg-graters, And the rogues obey you well.
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Hide not thy tears weep boldly, and be proud to give the flowing virtue manly way it is nature's mark to know an honest heart by.
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Servile doubt argues an impotence of mind, that says we fear because we dare not meet misfortunes.
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When Christ at Cana's feast by pow'r divine, Inspir'd cold water, with the warmth of wine, See! cry'd they while, in red'ning tide, it gush'd, The bashful stream hath seen its God and blush'd.
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Birth is a shadow. Courage, self-sustained, outlords succession's phlegm, and needs no ancestors.
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Shame on those breasts of stone that cannot melt in soft adoption of another's sorrow.
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Let never man be bold enough to say, Thus, and no farther shall my passion stray: The first crime, past, compels us into more, And guilt grows fate, that was but choice, before.
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Oh, treacherous night thou lendest thy ready veil to every treason, and teeming mischief's beneath thy shade.
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Shun fear, it is the ague of the soul! a passion man created for himself--for sure that cramp of nature could not dwell in the warm realms of glory.
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The man who pauses on the paths of treason, Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.
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O marriage! marriage! what a curse is thine, Where hands alone consent and hearts abhor.
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Union of hearts, not hands, does a marriage make, and sympathy of mind keeps love awake.
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Law that shocks equity is reason's murderer.
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Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear, Unite division, and draw distance near Their magic force each silent wish conveys, And wafts embodied though, a thousand ways: Could souls to bodies write, death's pow'r were mean, For minds could then meet minds with heav'n between.
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She who means no mischief does it all.
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First, then, a woman will, or won't, - depend on't If she will do't, she will and there's an end on't. But, if she won't, since safe and sound your trust is, Fear is affront: and jealousy injustice.
Aaron Hill
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Joys, which we do not know, we do not wish.
Aaron Hill
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Trust me--with women worth the being won, The softest lover ever best succeeds.
Aaron Hill