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Virtue is a beautiful thing in woman when they don't go about with it like a child with a drum making all sorts of noise with it.
Douglas William Jerrold
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Douglas William Jerrold
Age: 54 †
Born: 1803
Born: January 1
Died: 1857
Died: January 1
Author
Dramatist
Writer
London
England
Whitefeather
Barabbas
Doulgas Jerrold
Woman
Making
Beautiful
Children
Drum
Thing
Sorts
Like
Noise
Virtue
Child
More quotes by Douglas William Jerrold
Wits, like drunken men with swords, are apt to draw their steel upon their best acquaintances.
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The blackest of fluid is used as an agent to enlighten the world.
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A pill that the present moment is daily bread to thousands.
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A coquette is like a recruiting sergeant, always on the lookout for fresh victims.
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A man never so beautifully shows his own strength as when he respects a woman's softness.
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Religion is in the heart, not in the knees.
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Earth is here so kind, that just tickle her with a hoe and she laughs with a harvest.
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Duty, though set about by thorns, may still be made a staff supporting even while it tortures. Cast it away, and, like the prophet's wand, it changes to a snake.
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Self-defense is the clearest of all laws and for this reason - the lawyers didn't make it.
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A man is in no danger so long as he talks his love but to write it is to impale himself on his own pothooks.
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Some of 'em [virtues] like extinct volcanoes, with a strong memory or fire and brimstone.
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Gravity is more suggestive than convincing.
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Quality, not quantity, is my measure.
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A piece of simple goodness--a letter gushing from the heart a beautiful unstudied vindication of the worth and untiring sweetness of human nature--a record of the invulnerability of man, armed with high purpose, sanctified by truth.
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We are all slaves to the shining metal.
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Wishes, at least, are the easy pleasures of the poor.
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O this itch of the ear, that breaks out at the tongue! Were not curiosity so over-busy, detraction would soon be starved to death.
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Some people are so fond of ill luck that they run halfway to meet it.
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Nothing is so beneficial to a young author as the advice of a man whose judgment stands constitutionally at the freezing-point.
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Happiness grows at our own firesides, and is not to be picked in strangers' gardens.
Douglas William Jerrold