Quote

To the house of a friend if you're pleased to retire, You must all things admit, you must all things admire You must pay with observance the price of your treat, You must eat what is praised, and must praise what you eat.

George Crabbe

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George Crabbe
Age: 79 †
Born: 1754
Born: December 24
Died: 1834
Died: February 3
Entomologist
Medicine
Poet
Surgeon
Writer
Aldeburgh
Suffolk
House
Admit
Must
Treat
Things
Admire
Treats
Observance
Price
Praised
Praise
Retire
Pay
Pleased
Friend
Retiring

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In general satire, every man perceives A slight attack, yet neither fears nor grieves.
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Deceivers are the most dangerous members of society. They trifle with the best affections of our nature, and violate the most sacred obligations.
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The coward never on himself relies, But to an equal for assistance flies.
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Arrogance is the act of the great presumption that of the little.
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Whatever amuses, serves to kill time, to lull the faculties, and to banish reflection. Whatever entertains, usually awakens the understanding or gratifies the fancy. Whatever diverts, is lively in its nature, and sometimes tumultuous in its effects.
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Lawyers Are: By law's dark by-ways he has stored his mind with wicked knowledge on how to cheat mankind.
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Old Peter Grimes made fishing his employ His wife he cabined with him and his boy, And seemed that life laborious to enjoy.
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There is no mind so weak and powerless as not to have its inclinations, and none so guarded as to be without its prepossessions.
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Blest be the gracious Power, who taught mankind To stamp a lasting image of the mind! Beasts may convey, and tuneful birds may sing, Their mutual feelings, in the opening spring But Man alone has skill and power to send The heart's warm dictates to the distant friend 'Tis his alone to please, instruct, advise Ages remote, and nations yet to rise.
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Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme? Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread, By winding myrtle round your ruin'd shed?
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Anger makes us strong, Blind and impatient, And it leads us wrong The strength is quickly lost We feel the error long.
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And took for truth the test of ridicule.
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Life is not measured by the time we live.
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With awe, around these silent walks I tread These are the lasting mansions of the dead.
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Tis easiest dealing with the firmest mind-- More just when it resists, and, when it yields, more kind.
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In this wild world the fondest and the best Are the most tried, most troubled and distress'd.
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Books cannot always please, however good Minds are not ever craving for their food.
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Life's bloomy flush was lost.
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Circles in water as they wider flow The less conspicuous in their progress grow, And when at last they trench upon the shore, Distinction ceases and they're view'd no more.
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I grant indeed that fields and flocks have charms, For him that gazes or for him that farms.
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