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Winter does not work only on a broad scale he is careful in trifles.

Alexander Smith

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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
Careful
Doe
Work
Trifles
Broads
Broad
Scale
Scales
Winter

More quotes by Alexander Smith

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The sun was down, And all the west was paved with sullen fire. I cried, Behold! the barren beach of hell At ebb of tide.
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Pleasure has no logic it never treads in its own footsteps.
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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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The pleased sea on a white-breasted shore-- A shore that wears on her alluring brows Rare shells, far brought, the love-gifts of the sea, That blushed a tell-tale.
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It is the sternest philosophy, but on the whole the truest, that, in the wide arena of the world, failure and success are not accidents, as we so frequently suppose, but the strictest justice.
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Good-humor and, generosity carry day with the popular heart all the world over.
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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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The world is not so much in need of new thoughts as that when thought grows old and worn with usage it should, like current coin, be called in, and, from the mint of genius, reissued fresh and new.
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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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I would rather be remembered by a song than by a victory.
Alexander Smith
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In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October, when the trees are bare to the mild heavens, and the red leaves bestrew the road, and you can feel the breath of winter, morning and evening - no days so calm, so tenderly solemn, and with such a reverent meekness in the air.
Alexander Smith
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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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Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well.
Alexander Smith
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A tender sadness drops upon my soul, like the soft twilight dropping on the world.
Alexander Smith
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We are never happy we can only remember that we were so once.
Alexander Smith
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The discovery of a grey hair when you are brushing out your whiskers of a morning - first fallen flake of the coming snows of age - is a disagreeable thing.
Alexander Smith
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Happiness never lays its finger on its pulse. If we attempt to steal a glimpse of its features it disappears.
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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
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Trees are your best antiques
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Stirling, like a huge brooch, clasps Highlands and Lowlands together.
Alexander Smith