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I would rather be remembered by a song than by a victory.

Alexander Smith

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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
Remembered
Victory
Singing
Rather
Song
Would

More quotes by Alexander Smith

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God has thickly strewn infinity with grandeur.
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Eternity doth wear upon her face the veil of time. They only see the veil, and thus they know not what they stand so near!
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A man does not plant a tree for himself he plants it for posterity.
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To have to die is a distinction of which no man is proud.
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Looking forward into an empty year strikes one with a certain awe, because one finds therein no recognition. The years behind have a friendly aspect, and they are warmed by the fires we have kindled, and all their echoes are the echoes of our own voices.
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We have two lives The soul of man is like the rolling world, One half in day, the other dipt in night The one has music and the flying cloud, The other, silence and the wakeful stars.
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A single soul is richer than all the worlds.
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The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
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We bury love Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.
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To sit for one's portrait is like being present at one's own creation.
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The saddest thing that befalls a soul is when it loses faith in god and woman.
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Winter does not work only on a broad scale he is careful in trifles.
Alexander Smith
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One never hugs one's good luck so affectionately as when listening to the relation of some horrible misfortunes which has overtaken others.
Alexander Smith
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Men praise poverty, as the African worships Mumbo Jumbo--from terror of the malign power, and a desire to propitiate at.
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In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October.
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There is a certain even-handed justice in Time and for what he takes away he gives us something in return. He robs us of elasticity of limb and spirit, and in its place he brings tranquility and repose—the mild autumnal weather of the soul.
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Each time we love,We turn a nearer and a broader markTo that keen archer, Sorrow, and he strikes.
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In my garden I spend my days in my library I spend my nights.
Alexander Smith
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How deeply seated in the human heart is the liking for gardens and gardening.
Alexander Smith
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My garden, with its silence and pulses of fragrance that come and go on the airy undulations, affects me like sweet music. Care stops at the gates, and gazes at me wistfully through the bars.
Alexander Smith