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The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

Alexander Smith

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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
Child
Mother
Night
Children
Pale
Leading
Evening

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God has thickly strewn infinity with grandeur.
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Every day travels toward death the last only arrives at it.
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My friend is not perfect-no more than I am-and so we suit each other admirable.
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The spot of ground on which a man has stood is forever interesting to him.
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Pleasure has no logic it never treads in its own footsteps.
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Pride's chickens have bonny feathers, but they are an expensive brood to rear. They eat up everything, and are always lean when brought to market.
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Thoughts must come naturally, like wild-flowers they cannot be forced in a hot-bed, even although aided by the leaf-mould of your past.
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A bottomless pit of violence, a Tower of Babel where all are speakers and no hearers.
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In my garden I spend my days, in my library I spend my nights. My interests are divided between my geraniums and my books. With the flower I am in the present with the book I am in the past.
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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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Trees are your best antiques
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It is a characteristic of pleasure that we can never recognize it to be pleasure till after it is gone.
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A man does not plant a tree for himself he plants it for posterity.
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Trifles make up the happiness or the misery of mortal life.
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If we were to live here always, with no other care than how to feed, clothe, and house ourselves, life would be a very sorry business. It is immeasurably heightened by the solemnity of death.
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Not on the stage alone, in the world also, a man's real character comes out best in his asides.
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