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Arrogance is the act of the great presumption that of the little.
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
Little
Great
Presumption
Arrogance
Littles
More quotes by George Crabbe
Tis easiest dealing with the firmest mind-- More just when it resists, and, when it yields, more kind.
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Books cannot always please, however good Minds are not ever craving for their food.
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A sly old fish, too cunning for the hook.
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Hence, in these times, untouch'd the pages lie, And slumber out their immortality.
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Ability comprehends the power of doing in general, without specifying the quality or degree.
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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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In this wild world the fondest and the best Are the most tried, most troubled and distress'd.
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Dreams are like portraits and we find they please because they are confessed resemblances.
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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.
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But jest apart--what virtue canst thou trace In that broad trim that hides thy sober face? Does that long-skirted drab, that over-nice And formal clothing, prove a scorn of vice? Then for thine accent--what in sound can be So void of grace as dull monotony?
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The coward never on himself relies, But to an equal for assistance flies.
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Oh how the passions, insolent and strong, Bear our weak minds their rapid course along Make us the madness of their will obey Then die and leave us to our griefs as prey!
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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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Soldiers in arms! Defenders of our soil! Who from destruction save us who from spoil Protect the sons of peace, who traffic or who toil Would I could duly praise you, that each deed Your foe's might honor, and your friends might read.
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Against her foes Religion well defends Her sacred truths, but often fears her friends.
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Her air, her manners, all who saw admir'd Courteous though coy, and gentle though retir'd The joy of youth and health her eyes display'd, And ease of heart her every look convey'd.
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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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Life is not measured by the time we live.
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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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The gentle fair on nervous tea relies, Whilst gay good-nature sparkles in her eyes An inoffensive scandal fluttering round, Too rough to tickle, and too light to wound.
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